POEM LINES ON PHONE LINES
THROUGH MARCH 2007
La Línea will be featured on MCASD's phone system through March 2007 in conjunction with the Transactions exhibit. Including artists/writers Abril Castro, Jennifer Donovan, Jen Hofer, Kara Lynch, Lorena Mancilla, and Margarita Valencia Triana. Poem Lines on Phone Lines will feature each of these binational women individually during the fall and winter months. Guests will have the opportunity to listen to their experimental literature either from the comfort of their own phone or as part of an extended Museum experience from a phone in the gallery.
La Línea será ofrecido en sistema de teléfono de MCASD hasta Marcha de 2007 conjuntamente con la exposición de Transacciones. Incluye artistes/escritoras Abril Castro, Jennifer Donovan, Jen Hofer, Kara lynch, Lorena Mancilla, Margarita Valencia Triana . Las líneas del poema en las líneas telefónicas ofrecerán a cada uno de estas mujeres binacionales individualmente durante los meses del octoño y del invierno. Las invitados tendrán la oportunidad de escuchar su literatura experimental através de la comodidad de su propio teléfono o como parte de una experiencia extendida del museo de un teléfono en la galería.
Dial 858 454 3541 x9 to listen to the poems
Oprima 001 858 454 3541 x9 para escuchar a los poemas
See the LA Times article:
Poem Lines on Phone Lines: LA Times
Schedule:
( Poets change around the 17th of each month)
September: Kara Lynch
October: Abril Castro
November: Jennifer Donovan
December: Margarita Valencia
January: Lorena Mancilla
February: Jen Hofer (special guest)
March: Ali Liebegott (special guest)
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Poemlines Schedule and Texts
2006-07
September: Kara Lynch
October: Abril Castro
November: Jennifer Donovan
December: Margarita Valencia
January: Lorena Mancilla
February: Jen Hofer (special guest)
March: Ali Liebegott (special guest)
Texts:
Kara Lynch:
14.07.06
We are in a forest. We take refuge in the largest trees with the strongest roots. Birds visit us and bring us news from the outside. Their wings flutter around us huddled in the pit of the cedar’s hollow. These birds remind us of skies and roaming winged.
Our skies are now filled with fighters. Pushing thru the clouds, littering our streets with notices: leave before the bombing if you value your life. trans: your life is not your own. trans: dig your own grave or we will dig it for you. The letters from our own hand, curls and loops dotted and broken but the words, the language belligerant and ruined, belong to someone else. The sentences don’t make sense the syntax is embattled and brusque. Confident in its graceless insult.
4. Are you Lebanese or Palestinian?
You are mean and ugly. You push the kids around in the playground. You think it’s funny. Ha ha ha. You laugh. Crack yourself up. so very funny. Nobody can mess with you. No way man. Just try it. By the swings you pound a girl into the ground then just walk away. And when she yells and screams for help, the prefects and the teachers tell her to stop her whining. Maybe they ask ‘who did this to you?’ innocent. She points her finger. You are on the other side of the baseball field by now. They shake their head and tell her, oh it’s not so bad, your okay. Just get up and brush yourself off, here, let us give you a hand. then nothing happens. You walk away scott free except for the cuts and bruises on your hands from today’s evil deeds. You go to the nurse later for comfort and she dresses your wounds. They might as well shake your hand for keeping things under control out there. If you are around, they don’t have to. Behind the scenes they even pat you on the back.
Beirut, Tripoli, Saida, Sur, Amchit, Jounieh Day 3
Go
You should go.
We should stop things here.
push anger to tears
ask
You should ask
I should ask
love me.
Why can’t you
Why don’t you have it in you to
You the one with all the laissez-faire and bravado
par hazard: You don’t. I don’t.
The walls go up
Miles and miles piled into one thin needle of stone and sweat and everything that never happens. could. never.
never again say a proper goodbye at the airport, send me off. The welcome partial anyway, send your friends to look for me as you hover in the drivers seat curbside
I pass by looking for you
Your description misses and they return to the car my bags already in the trunk. Two kisses quick marhaba. Hi.
You said short hair, not no hair.
Maybe a hat
Maybe you could be a veiled woman
Yea a hat. You’ll have to wear a hat when you come and go. What will the neighbors think.
what they always think when you press 9 in the lift.
Yalla let’s go.
never again meet you anxious at a café by the sea. sunglasses prove you are ready for something big and maybe no one will see this flashing in your eyes, or maybe just a hangover bright sun bearing down. 5 oclock just like you said.
My juice is not fresh. You point this out. An important detail. Here they serve me fake juice and I drink it.
You go
We stop things here
Jenny Donovan: estamos adentro
Magarita Valencia:
La Mujer Exponencial / Exponential Woman
(Poemas / Poems)
I
Hay en el filo una mujer / There is a woman on the edge
[siempre mujeres en el desfiladero] / [always women in the defile(ment)]
Me despeño sólo para sentir el temblor. / I let go of myself to feel the shudder
II
Existe en alguna parte de mi lengua, / In some part of my tongue
una pregunta / there exists a question
Breve / Brief
Concisa / Concise
Trivial / Trivial
No intercambiable. / Not exchangeable.
III
La Mujer Exponencial / The Exponential Woman
La Peor de todas / The Evil-minded
La Mejor de todas / The Sweetest
La escapista en su jaula. / The escapist inside her cage.
IV
Lo sé, / I know it,
Esto no debió ser, / This wasn't meant to be,
El amor se vuelve un acto radical, / Love becomes a radical act,
tras la era de la orgía. / after the era of orgies.
V
Peccata minuta
Yo prefiero sus senos a los cielos. / I prefer her breasts to heaven.
VI
Soy mi propia ama / I am my own mistress
Mi propia lengua / My own language
Mi propia arma . / My own weapon.
VII
Cuando yo vivía allá / When I lived there
[en este silencio debe escucharse / [in this silence it must hear
el rumor del Mar] / the whisper of the ocean]
La Gran Vía me parecia / The Gran Vía seems like
una metafora inaudita. / an intolerable metaphor.
Ahora que vivo aquí, sé que lo es. / Now, that I live here, I know it is.
VIII
Algo que se parece a la impotencia / Something that looks like powerlessness
me ronda el cuello. / circles my neck.
IX
Tu saliva (que corre por mis venas) / Your saliva (that runs through my veins)
Es jugar a la ruleta rusa / is playing Russian Roulette,
con una pistola automática. / and loses every time.
X
Esa Mujer, / That Woman
lo presiento, / I foresee that
no es intercambiable. / she's not exchangeable.
XI
AIXO
Erase una vez, yo. / Once upon at time, I
Era y no era. / Was and I wasn't.
Lorena Mancilla:
I burn myself when I shower, I like it because it keeps me warm during the day.
And well, it's not like I'm putting a cigarette out on my hand. Is just that I like hot water, but if I touch my back I can feel the tenderness of scalded skin.
I notice this when I read. My hand stays there as I go somewhere else. Into somebody else’s head, a stranger’s hell. I feel the words entering me as I read.
Words are like that, the sign floats, like plankton. I feed myself on words. I fall in love with words and I seduce with them. I see the constructions and the landscapes. I smell the characters, I hear the voices. If you were a written word, a spoken word I would know you. But you are silence, you listen, and this is just a recording. Similar to the call that you make to the bank, and you meet with a voice that guides you through imaginary labyrinths, she takes your hand and makes you press the numbers. Have you ever asked yourself why it’s always a feminine voice.
I am that voice. But I don't offer any service, I will not tell you how rich you are, or how poor.
I am only letting you listen. I give you these words. I violate the silence and I enter you
Durante el día pienso en como será la noche.
Manejo una caja metálica que contiene a mi cuerpo. Luz tras luz. Las ruedas pulverizan la basura, levantan un polvo fino y opaco que cubre los ojos. Los cierro buscando oscuridad pero solo tengo la sangre de mis parpados, transparente y brillante.
Y disuelvo mis manos en espuma naranja. La mañana tropieza con los periódicos y la radio. Balazos, sonrisas perfumadas, el bebé que bautizaron el sábado, un hombre de portafolios, la cartelera del cine y la nueva manera de asesinar a un narco al lado de mi café. Es como si la noche anterior nunca hubiera ocurrido, como si todo hubiera sido un sueño
pero nadie durmió.
Y limpio un cachetito, los labios algo secos de sed.
Me callo, pero a cada momento quiero el silencio a oscuras, escucharlo, sentirlo, decirlo.
Déjame que te diga en donde estamos:
Desde allá tu ves una figura mítica
Desde aquí yo solo veo un caballo con un cuerno de plástico pegado en medio de la frente.
Óyelo bien: he quemado mi sentido de la ilusión y para que no quedaran cenizas por revivir, llame a los bomberos. A ver, tráeme cenizas húmedas, pero que ardan y que vuelen y que canten.
Verdad que no?
Pero en la noche, creo todo
y en silencio, creo mas
y si respiramos lento, a un paso, es probable que me quede dormida
y sueñe con voces raspadas
o con gansos.
o con silencio.
Jen Hofer:
divide — divide and conquer — — divided and conquered — —— conquered
We remind the Americans again and again:
If you enter someone’s house by breaking down his door,
that man and all his relatives are your enemy forever.
— Afghani Lieutenant Colonel Sheehin Shah Kabandi, Los Angeles Times
Hundreds of unclaimed dead lay at the morgue at midday Monday
— blood-caked men who had been shot, knifed, garroted or apparently
suffocated by the plastic bags still over their heads. Many of the bodies
were sprawled with their hands still bound.
— Washington Post, reported by Dahr Jamail
As callous as it sounds, every Iraqi was considered guilty until proven otherwise.
— Lance Corporal Robert Pennington, Los Angeles Times
what next?
next belligerence training, bombing as backdrop in the largest natural preserve in california?
next trained in the capacity to split, fake from the real in scorching sun, no sea in sight?
to scream “law and order” as we kick down their doors?
next to change facts, bequeathed to us by enemy signatories?
a broken hinge, more open or more broken?
guilt by nationality — —
as they do not — do not —
scaffold do not — provide —
parading greens skinny — laddering
spooling out spooling out
as they do not stilt
do not splint
do not swell fitted
spool
hand over —
fist
— splitting — —
battalions
bloodlines
next law next order
— hand it over — — as they do not — do not —
do not retreat
do not sympathize
do not redeploy
do not report
baghdad or bust
do not blister
do not char
do not forge
do not sally forth
indications of bodily injury, inappropriate striations, tried
and true. do not platoon, do not bereft, do not strife, strafe,
rake, immolate, slice, ligament, triumph, swelter, tenuous,
shush, shatter, deprive, delete. do not borrow. do not shut.
cuts across the face and then there is no face
sutures to the wound and will not knit, will not merge.
bombardments and will not listen, not listening
not not fighting, not not caring, not not deploying,
in increments not deploying, baghdad or bust, busted,
trust me, through the doorframe, your best busted
interests at heart, tenderly shattered, tenderly shot, incidents
of torture have dropped to acceptable levels, laws rewritten,
skeletons rewritten, not not caring, trust me, not pausing, not heeding
not understanding, no understanding, not having to, having to, baghdad or bust, blasted
in fits and starts
wafting or pushed
on the grey on the grey
unsheltered next
flocking greenly
to our death
albeit unfinished
unfaltered busted blue
burnished not anew
as it fades — — fades — flocks — flares — — ceases and desists —
—— busts
——— — ——— —
busts
the line of someone — the line
of someone’s skin — — to cross that —
— open — open it — open it — open it
the line is a line
broken into lines into
segments, points, bodies
in silent motion, bodies
in noisy motion no longer
in stop motion the body
under a sheet sparked
into shards can’t move
what next
can no longer move
(from one, to be published by Palm Press in winter 2007/2008)
September: Kara Lynch
October: Abril Castro
November: Jennifer Donovan
December: Margarita Valencia
January: Lorena Mancilla
February: Jen Hofer (special guest)
March: Ali Liebegott (special guest)
Texts:
Kara Lynch:
14.07.06
We are in a forest. We take refuge in the largest trees with the strongest roots. Birds visit us and bring us news from the outside. Their wings flutter around us huddled in the pit of the cedar’s hollow. These birds remind us of skies and roaming winged.
Our skies are now filled with fighters. Pushing thru the clouds, littering our streets with notices: leave before the bombing if you value your life. trans: your life is not your own. trans: dig your own grave or we will dig it for you. The letters from our own hand, curls and loops dotted and broken but the words, the language belligerant and ruined, belong to someone else. The sentences don’t make sense the syntax is embattled and brusque. Confident in its graceless insult.
4. Are you Lebanese or Palestinian?
You are mean and ugly. You push the kids around in the playground. You think it’s funny. Ha ha ha. You laugh. Crack yourself up. so very funny. Nobody can mess with you. No way man. Just try it. By the swings you pound a girl into the ground then just walk away. And when she yells and screams for help, the prefects and the teachers tell her to stop her whining. Maybe they ask ‘who did this to you?’ innocent. She points her finger. You are on the other side of the baseball field by now. They shake their head and tell her, oh it’s not so bad, your okay. Just get up and brush yourself off, here, let us give you a hand. then nothing happens. You walk away scott free except for the cuts and bruises on your hands from today’s evil deeds. You go to the nurse later for comfort and she dresses your wounds. They might as well shake your hand for keeping things under control out there. If you are around, they don’t have to. Behind the scenes they even pat you on the back.
Beirut, Tripoli, Saida, Sur, Amchit, Jounieh Day 3
Go
You should go.
We should stop things here.
push anger to tears
ask
You should ask
I should ask
love me.
Why can’t you
Why don’t you have it in you to
You the one with all the laissez-faire and bravado
par hazard: You don’t. I don’t.
The walls go up
Miles and miles piled into one thin needle of stone and sweat and everything that never happens. could. never.
never again say a proper goodbye at the airport, send me off. The welcome partial anyway, send your friends to look for me as you hover in the drivers seat curbside
I pass by looking for you
Your description misses and they return to the car my bags already in the trunk. Two kisses quick marhaba. Hi.
You said short hair, not no hair.
Maybe a hat
Maybe you could be a veiled woman
Yea a hat. You’ll have to wear a hat when you come and go. What will the neighbors think.
what they always think when you press 9 in the lift.
Yalla let’s go.
never again meet you anxious at a café by the sea. sunglasses prove you are ready for something big and maybe no one will see this flashing in your eyes, or maybe just a hangover bright sun bearing down. 5 oclock just like you said.
My juice is not fresh. You point this out. An important detail. Here they serve me fake juice and I drink it.
You go
We stop things here
Jenny Donovan: estamos adentro
Magarita Valencia:
La Mujer Exponencial / Exponential Woman
(Poemas / Poems)
I
Hay en el filo una mujer / There is a woman on the edge
[siempre mujeres en el desfiladero] / [always women in the defile(ment)]
Me despeño sólo para sentir el temblor. / I let go of myself to feel the shudder
II
Existe en alguna parte de mi lengua, / In some part of my tongue
una pregunta / there exists a question
Breve / Brief
Concisa / Concise
Trivial / Trivial
No intercambiable. / Not exchangeable.
III
La Mujer Exponencial / The Exponential Woman
La Peor de todas / The Evil-minded
La Mejor de todas / The Sweetest
La escapista en su jaula. / The escapist inside her cage.
IV
Lo sé, / I know it,
Esto no debió ser, / This wasn't meant to be,
El amor se vuelve un acto radical, / Love becomes a radical act,
tras la era de la orgía. / after the era of orgies.
V
Peccata minuta
Yo prefiero sus senos a los cielos. / I prefer her breasts to heaven.
VI
Soy mi propia ama / I am my own mistress
Mi propia lengua / My own language
Mi propia arma . / My own weapon.
VII
Cuando yo vivía allá / When I lived there
[en este silencio debe escucharse / [in this silence it must hear
el rumor del Mar] / the whisper of the ocean]
La Gran Vía me parecia / The Gran Vía seems like
una metafora inaudita. / an intolerable metaphor.
Ahora que vivo aquí, sé que lo es. / Now, that I live here, I know it is.
VIII
Algo que se parece a la impotencia / Something that looks like powerlessness
me ronda el cuello. / circles my neck.
IX
Tu saliva (que corre por mis venas) / Your saliva (that runs through my veins)
Es jugar a la ruleta rusa / is playing Russian Roulette,
con una pistola automática. / and loses every time.
X
Esa Mujer, / That Woman
lo presiento, / I foresee that
no es intercambiable. / she's not exchangeable.
XI
AIXO
Erase una vez, yo. / Once upon at time, I
Era y no era. / Was and I wasn't.
Lorena Mancilla:
I burn myself when I shower, I like it because it keeps me warm during the day.
And well, it's not like I'm putting a cigarette out on my hand. Is just that I like hot water, but if I touch my back I can feel the tenderness of scalded skin.
I notice this when I read. My hand stays there as I go somewhere else. Into somebody else’s head, a stranger’s hell. I feel the words entering me as I read.
Words are like that, the sign floats, like plankton. I feed myself on words. I fall in love with words and I seduce with them. I see the constructions and the landscapes. I smell the characters, I hear the voices. If you were a written word, a spoken word I would know you. But you are silence, you listen, and this is just a recording. Similar to the call that you make to the bank, and you meet with a voice that guides you through imaginary labyrinths, she takes your hand and makes you press the numbers. Have you ever asked yourself why it’s always a feminine voice.
I am that voice. But I don't offer any service, I will not tell you how rich you are, or how poor.
I am only letting you listen. I give you these words. I violate the silence and I enter you
Durante el día pienso en como será la noche.
Manejo una caja metálica que contiene a mi cuerpo. Luz tras luz. Las ruedas pulverizan la basura, levantan un polvo fino y opaco que cubre los ojos. Los cierro buscando oscuridad pero solo tengo la sangre de mis parpados, transparente y brillante.
Y disuelvo mis manos en espuma naranja. La mañana tropieza con los periódicos y la radio. Balazos, sonrisas perfumadas, el bebé que bautizaron el sábado, un hombre de portafolios, la cartelera del cine y la nueva manera de asesinar a un narco al lado de mi café. Es como si la noche anterior nunca hubiera ocurrido, como si todo hubiera sido un sueño
pero nadie durmió.
Y limpio un cachetito, los labios algo secos de sed.
Me callo, pero a cada momento quiero el silencio a oscuras, escucharlo, sentirlo, decirlo.
Déjame que te diga en donde estamos:
Desde allá tu ves una figura mítica
Desde aquí yo solo veo un caballo con un cuerno de plástico pegado en medio de la frente.
Óyelo bien: he quemado mi sentido de la ilusión y para que no quedaran cenizas por revivir, llame a los bomberos. A ver, tráeme cenizas húmedas, pero que ardan y que vuelen y que canten.
Verdad que no?
Pero en la noche, creo todo
y en silencio, creo mas
y si respiramos lento, a un paso, es probable que me quede dormida
y sueñe con voces raspadas
o con gansos.
o con silencio.
Jen Hofer:
divide — divide and conquer — — divided and conquered — —— conquered
We remind the Americans again and again:
If you enter someone’s house by breaking down his door,
that man and all his relatives are your enemy forever.
— Afghani Lieutenant Colonel Sheehin Shah Kabandi, Los Angeles Times
Hundreds of unclaimed dead lay at the morgue at midday Monday
— blood-caked men who had been shot, knifed, garroted or apparently
suffocated by the plastic bags still over their heads. Many of the bodies
were sprawled with their hands still bound.
— Washington Post, reported by Dahr Jamail
As callous as it sounds, every Iraqi was considered guilty until proven otherwise.
— Lance Corporal Robert Pennington, Los Angeles Times
what next?
next belligerence training, bombing as backdrop in the largest natural preserve in california?
next trained in the capacity to split, fake from the real in scorching sun, no sea in sight?
to scream “law and order” as we kick down their doors?
next to change facts, bequeathed to us by enemy signatories?
a broken hinge, more open or more broken?
guilt by nationality — —
as they do not — do not —
scaffold do not — provide —
parading greens skinny — laddering
spooling out spooling out
as they do not stilt
do not splint
do not swell fitted
spool
hand over —
fist
— splitting — —
battalions
bloodlines
next law next order
— hand it over — — as they do not — do not —
do not retreat
do not sympathize
do not redeploy
do not report
baghdad or bust
do not blister
do not char
do not forge
do not sally forth
indications of bodily injury, inappropriate striations, tried
and true. do not platoon, do not bereft, do not strife, strafe,
rake, immolate, slice, ligament, triumph, swelter, tenuous,
shush, shatter, deprive, delete. do not borrow. do not shut.
cuts across the face and then there is no face
sutures to the wound and will not knit, will not merge.
bombardments and will not listen, not listening
not not fighting, not not caring, not not deploying,
in increments not deploying, baghdad or bust, busted,
trust me, through the doorframe, your best busted
interests at heart, tenderly shattered, tenderly shot, incidents
of torture have dropped to acceptable levels, laws rewritten,
skeletons rewritten, not not caring, trust me, not pausing, not heeding
not understanding, no understanding, not having to, having to, baghdad or bust, blasted
in fits and starts
wafting or pushed
on the grey on the grey
unsheltered next
flocking greenly
to our death
albeit unfinished
unfaltered busted blue
burnished not anew
as it fades — — fades — flocks — flares — — ceases and desists —
—— busts
——— — ——— —
busts
the line of someone — the line
of someone’s skin — — to cross that —
— open — open it — open it — open it
the line is a line
broken into lines into
segments, points, bodies
in silent motion, bodies
in noisy motion no longer
in stop motion the body
under a sheet sparked
into shards can’t move
what next
can no longer move
(from one, to be published by Palm Press in winter 2007/2008)
Monday, December 18, 2006
Poem Lines on Phone Lines: Speacial Guests!
Dial 858.454.3541 ext. 9
(001) 858.454.3541 ext. 9 (México)
Jen Hofer
(February 17-March 17)
Jen Hofer moved to Los Angeles from Mexico City in 2002. Her recent publications include Sin puertas visibles: An Anthology of Contemporary Poetry by Mexican Women (University of Pittsburgh Press and Ediciones Sin Nombre, 2003), slide rule (subpress, 2002), and the chapbooks laws (Dusie Kollectiv, 2006), lawless (Seeing Eye Books, 2003) and sexoPUROsexoVELOZ (translations of poetry by Dolores Dorantes, Seeing Eye Books, 2004). Her next books will be a full-length translation of Dorantes' sexoPUROsexoVELOZ, (Kenning Editions 2007), a translation of Laura Sol—rzano's lobo de labio, (Action Books, 2006), an epistolary and poetic collaboration with poet and musician Patrick Durgin (Atelos, 2007), and a book-length series of anti-war-manifesto-poems, titled one (Palm Press, 2008). Her poems and translations can be found in recent issues of 1913, Aufgabe, Black Clock, Bomb, Bombay Gin and Primary Writing, and in the anthologies Reversible Monuments: An Anthology of Contemporary Mexican Poetry, (Copper Canyon Press, 2002), Surface Tension: The Problematics of Site (Errant Bodies Press, 2003), SŽance (Make Now Press, 2005), Strange Place (Never Die Books, 2005) and Connecting Lines: New Poetry from Mexico (Sarabande Books, 2006). She is happily a founding member of The City of Angels Ladies´ Bicycle Association, also known as The Whirly Girls.
Ali Liebegott:
(March 17-April)
Ali liebegott has been writing stories and poems since she was a teenager. Her work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies including: I Do/I Don't (Suspect Thoughts Press); Pills, Thrills, Chills and Heartache (Alyson Press); Blood and Tears: Poems for Mathew Shephard (Painted Leaf Press); Between the Cracks (Daedelus); among others.
In 2005 her book-length poem The Beautifully Worthless was published by Suspect Thoughts Press. It was recently awarded a Lambda Literary Award in the category of Best Lesbian Debut Fiction. In January of 2007 she published her novel The IHOP Papers with Carroll & Graf. She has performed many times throughout the country, including two tours with Sister Spit. in 1999 she was the recipient of a Poetry Fellowship from the New York Foundation for the Arts. Currently she is finishing an illustrated novel called The Crumb People about a post-September 11th obsessive duck feeder.
For the past two years she has lived in San Diego where she teaches basic reading, writing and math at San Ysidro Adult School & creative writing classes at UC San Diego.
Proyecto comisionado por el Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de San Diego.
This project was commissioned by the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego
(001) 858.454.3541 ext. 9 (México)
Jen Hofer
(February 17-March 17)
Jen Hofer moved to Los Angeles from Mexico City in 2002. Her recent publications include Sin puertas visibles: An Anthology of Contemporary Poetry by Mexican Women (University of Pittsburgh Press and Ediciones Sin Nombre, 2003), slide rule (subpress, 2002), and the chapbooks laws (Dusie Kollectiv, 2006), lawless (Seeing Eye Books, 2003) and sexoPUROsexoVELOZ (translations of poetry by Dolores Dorantes, Seeing Eye Books, 2004). Her next books will be a full-length translation of Dorantes' sexoPUROsexoVELOZ, (Kenning Editions 2007), a translation of Laura Sol—rzano's lobo de labio, (Action Books, 2006), an epistolary and poetic collaboration with poet and musician Patrick Durgin (Atelos, 2007), and a book-length series of anti-war-manifesto-poems, titled one (Palm Press, 2008). Her poems and translations can be found in recent issues of 1913, Aufgabe, Black Clock, Bomb, Bombay Gin and Primary Writing, and in the anthologies Reversible Monuments: An Anthology of Contemporary Mexican Poetry, (Copper Canyon Press, 2002), Surface Tension: The Problematics of Site (Errant Bodies Press, 2003), SŽance (Make Now Press, 2005), Strange Place (Never Die Books, 2005) and Connecting Lines: New Poetry from Mexico (Sarabande Books, 2006). She is happily a founding member of The City of Angels Ladies´ Bicycle Association, also known as The Whirly Girls.
Ali Liebegott:
(March 17-April)
Ali liebegott has been writing stories and poems since she was a teenager. Her work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies including: I Do/I Don't (Suspect Thoughts Press); Pills, Thrills, Chills and Heartache (Alyson Press); Blood and Tears: Poems for Mathew Shephard (Painted Leaf Press); Between the Cracks (Daedelus); among others.
In 2005 her book-length poem The Beautifully Worthless was published by Suspect Thoughts Press. It was recently awarded a Lambda Literary Award in the category of Best Lesbian Debut Fiction. In January of 2007 she published her novel The IHOP Papers with Carroll & Graf. She has performed many times throughout the country, including two tours with Sister Spit. in 1999 she was the recipient of a Poetry Fellowship from the New York Foundation for the Arts. Currently she is finishing an illustrated novel called The Crumb People about a post-September 11th obsessive duck feeder.
For the past two years she has lived in San Diego where she teaches basic reading, writing and math at San Ysidro Adult School & creative writing classes at UC San Diego.
Proyecto comisionado por el Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de San Diego.
This project was commissioned by the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Información de La Línea
Descripción
La Línea es un colectivo binacional y feminista de escritoras, artistas, y teóricas. Trabajamos juntas desde 2002, cuando empezamos nuestra primera colaboración: la publicación La Línea. Cada proyecto que desarrollamos empieza a partir de la palabra y hace referencia constante a este lugar (Tijuana, la frontera, el muro: la línea) a través de las conexiones y desconexiones del inglés y el español. Nuestro trabajo usa textos, performance, y espacios (públicos/privados) para crear relaciones (físicas/sentimentales/racionales) entre el lector/participante y un espacio especifico a través de la inserción de textos como parte de la arquitectura cotidiana. Durante el último año hemos trabajado con los temas: violencia, identidad. y recientemente, el miedo.
Biografías:
Abril Castro, (1976, Tijuana, Baja California, México). Estudió la Lic. en Lengua y Literatura Hispanoamericana en la Escuela de Humanidades de la Universidad Autónoma de Baja California, en donde también participó en los talleres de Artes Plásticas y Poesía. Entre las áreas de su interés se encuentran la Historia y Teoría del Arte. Ha tomado cursos de historia y teoría del arte dentro del Programa Educativo para la Profesionalización Artística (Centro de Humanidades-Casa Lamm). En el 2000 recibió el apoyo del Fideicomiso Para la Cultura y las Artes México - Estados Unidos, Bancomer & Rockefeller Foundation. En el 2003 fue curadora asociada, al lado de Olivier Debroise, de la exposición BC-3, Nueva Fotografía en Baja California (CECUT, 2003. Centro de la Imagen 2004). Durante el 2006 fue parte de la primera generación del Laboratorio Fronterizo de Escritores/Writing Lab on the Border. Fotógrafa de closet.
Kara Lynch ( Ha vivido y trabajado en New York desde 1990 donde se ha desempeñado como artista multidisciplinaría cine/video, performance, artes visuales. Ha recibido varios premios por su trabajo en video como el Planet Out/ifilm Queer Short Movie Award en el 2000 y el New York Foundation for the Arts and New York State Council for the Arts como artista individual en video y nuevos medios. En 1994 recibió el apoyo para residencia durante seis meses Arts International six month Artist Residency en Moscú, Rusia y en 1996 and 2001 fue parte de la residencia artística thematic artist residencies en el Banff Centre for the Arts. Recientemente terminó su maestría en artes visuals en University of California, San Diego. Actualmente Kara es profesora asistente en Video Production y crítica en el Hampshire College in Amherst, MA.
Lorena Mancilla Corona (Tijuana, B. C. 1975). Estudió la licenciatura en Filosofía en la Universidad Autónoma de Baja California. Escribe cuento, crónica y reportaje. Ha publicado en medios y revistas nacionales como: Revista Día Siete, revista Replicante, revista Dos Puntos, revista Complot Internacional. Vive y trabaja en Rosarito, B. C.
Margarita Valencia Triana, (Tijuana B.C, 1980). Filosofa, poeta, ensayista y exhibicionista performática, actualmente, además de dedicarse a la escritura, realiza su tesis doctoral en Filosofía, Pensamiento Político y Feminismo en la Universidad Complutense de Madrid. Sus poemas han sido publicados en algunas revistas y antologías de México, como: Alforja, Tierra Adentro, Taladro, TextoS, La Línea y Velocidad Crítica,. En Francia ha publicado en la revista Los Flamencos No Comen (Montpellier). Algunos de sus ensayos han sido publicados en la revista Saga (Colombia) y en
La Línea es un colectivo binacional y feminista de escritoras, artistas, y teóricas. Trabajamos juntas desde 2002, cuando empezamos nuestra primera colaboración: la publicación La Línea. Cada proyecto que desarrollamos empieza a partir de la palabra y hace referencia constante a este lugar (Tijuana, la frontera, el muro: la línea) a través de las conexiones y desconexiones del inglés y el español. Nuestro trabajo usa textos, performance, y espacios (públicos/privados) para crear relaciones (físicas/sentimentales/racionales) entre el lector/participante y un espacio especifico a través de la inserción de textos como parte de la arquitectura cotidiana. Durante el último año hemos trabajado con los temas: violencia, identidad. y recientemente, el miedo.
Biografías:
Abril Castro, (1976, Tijuana, Baja California, México). Estudió la Lic. en Lengua y Literatura Hispanoamericana en la Escuela de Humanidades de la Universidad Autónoma de Baja California, en donde también participó en los talleres de Artes Plásticas y Poesía. Entre las áreas de su interés se encuentran la Historia y Teoría del Arte. Ha tomado cursos de historia y teoría del arte dentro del Programa Educativo para la Profesionalización Artística (Centro de Humanidades-Casa Lamm). En el 2000 recibió el apoyo del Fideicomiso Para la Cultura y las Artes México - Estados Unidos, Bancomer & Rockefeller Foundation. En el 2003 fue curadora asociada, al lado de Olivier Debroise, de la exposición BC-3, Nueva Fotografía en Baja California (CECUT, 2003. Centro de la Imagen 2004). Durante el 2006 fue parte de la primera generación del Laboratorio Fronterizo de Escritores/Writing Lab on the Border. Fotógrafa de closet.
Kara Lynch ( Ha vivido y trabajado en New York desde 1990 donde se ha desempeñado como artista multidisciplinaría cine/video, performance, artes visuales. Ha recibido varios premios por su trabajo en video como el Planet Out/ifilm Queer Short Movie Award en el 2000 y el New York Foundation for the Arts and New York State Council for the Arts como artista individual en video y nuevos medios. En 1994 recibió el apoyo para residencia durante seis meses Arts International six month Artist Residency en Moscú, Rusia y en 1996 and 2001 fue parte de la residencia artística thematic artist residencies en el Banff Centre for the Arts. Recientemente terminó su maestría en artes visuals en University of California, San Diego. Actualmente Kara es profesora asistente en Video Production y crítica en el Hampshire College in Amherst, MA.
Lorena Mancilla Corona (Tijuana, B. C. 1975). Estudió la licenciatura en Filosofía en la Universidad Autónoma de Baja California. Escribe cuento, crónica y reportaje. Ha publicado en medios y revistas nacionales como: Revista Día Siete, revista Replicante, revista Dos Puntos, revista Complot Internacional. Vive y trabaja en Rosarito, B. C.
Margarita Valencia Triana, (Tijuana B.C, 1980). Filosofa, poeta, ensayista y exhibicionista performática, actualmente, además de dedicarse a la escritura, realiza su tesis doctoral en Filosofía, Pensamiento Político y Feminismo en la Universidad Complutense de Madrid. Sus poemas han sido publicados en algunas revistas y antologías de México, como: Alforja, Tierra Adentro, Taladro, TextoS, La Línea y Velocidad Crítica,. En Francia ha publicado en la revista Los Flamencos No Comen (Montpellier). Algunos de sus ensayos han sido publicados en la revista Saga (Colombia) y en
About La Línea
La Línea (The Line) is a bi-national feminist collective of women writers, artists and theorists. We have been working together since 2002, when we started our first collaboration: the publication, La Línea. Each project that we develop begins from the moment of a word, and contains the constant reference to this place (Tijuana, the border, the wall: the line) through the connection and misconnections of Spanish and English. Our work uses texts, performance and spaces to create complex (physical/emotional/rational) relationships between the viewer/reader and a specific space through the insertion of texts as a part of the quotidian architecture. We have been working with the themes of violence, identity, and translation to look at permeable edges, and then to use the space of the poetic (words and physical experience) in order to make some of the more complex issues within these themes more visible.
Abril Castro (Tijuana, 1977) has her Bachelors Degree in Hispanic-American Language and Literature from Universidad Autónoma de Baja California), where she also completed a range of art and poetry workshops. In 2000, she received funding from the Bancomer and Rockefeller Foundation. Currently, she is the Coordinator for the Visual Arts section of the publication La Línea.
Lorena Mancilla (Tijuana, B. C. 1975). Received her Bachelor’s degree in Philosophy at the Autonomous University of Baja California. She writes narratives, chronicles and does reporting. She has published in national publications, such as: Revista Día Siete, Replicante, Dos Puntos, and Complot Internacional. She lives and works in Rosarito B.C.
Kara Lynch is a time-based artist. Her work criss-crosses media, though at the root, performance is her discipline and point of departure. Recent works include: 'Black Russians' 2001 117min documentary video; ‘The Outing Trilogy,™’ experimental video piece including: 'Mi Compañera' 2002 12min and ‘Me-ba ™ Coming™ 1998 9min; 'Xing Over' 2003 6hr performance/2.36min 3 channel audio piece; 'Invisible: episode 03 meet me in Okemah, Ok circa 1911' 2003 a multi-site video/audio installation. Her epic sci-fi project, Invisible, speculates the violence of becoming a subject by way of black liberation and time-travel. Living en exilio in upstate ny and teaching video at Hampshire College, she retains a post office box in nueva york, storage space in western mass and love for the pacific ocean. She is a gemini monkey born in the momentous year of 1968.
Margarita Valencia Triana (Zacatecas, 1980) is a poet and philosopher who graduated from la Universidad Autónoma de Baja California. She participated in José Vicente Anaya’s poetry workshop, and has been published by Tierra Adentro, a literary magazine; Saga, journal of philosophy, and she took part in the poetry compilation by the Centro de Estudios Poéticos de Madrid. “For me, writing is a violent act, an interruption into a state of given things. It is to tear the world a bit. It is to reveal. It’s an upper cut. Writing is to leave without air. That’s why writing is a fight and words are blades, they’re bullets. My principal interest is to subvert with words.”
Abril Castro (Tijuana, 1977) has her Bachelors Degree in Hispanic-American Language and Literature from Universidad Autónoma de Baja California), where she also completed a range of art and poetry workshops. In 2000, she received funding from the Bancomer and Rockefeller Foundation. Currently, she is the Coordinator for the Visual Arts section of the publication La Línea.
Lorena Mancilla (Tijuana, B. C. 1975). Received her Bachelor’s degree in Philosophy at the Autonomous University of Baja California. She writes narratives, chronicles and does reporting. She has published in national publications, such as: Revista Día Siete, Replicante, Dos Puntos, and Complot Internacional. She lives and works in Rosarito B.C.
Kara Lynch is a time-based artist. Her work criss-crosses media, though at the root, performance is her discipline and point of departure. Recent works include: 'Black Russians' 2001 117min documentary video; ‘The Outing Trilogy,™’ experimental video piece including: 'Mi Compañera' 2002 12min and ‘Me-ba ™ Coming™ 1998 9min; 'Xing Over' 2003 6hr performance/2.36min 3 channel audio piece; 'Invisible: episode 03 meet me in Okemah, Ok circa 1911' 2003 a multi-site video/audio installation. Her epic sci-fi project, Invisible, speculates the violence of becoming a subject by way of black liberation and time-travel. Living en exilio in upstate ny and teaching video at Hampshire College, she retains a post office box in nueva york, storage space in western mass and love for the pacific ocean. She is a gemini monkey born in the momentous year of 1968.
Margarita Valencia Triana (Zacatecas, 1980) is a poet and philosopher who graduated from la Universidad Autónoma de Baja California. She participated in José Vicente Anaya’s poetry workshop, and has been published by Tierra Adentro, a literary magazine; Saga, journal of philosophy, and she took part in the poetry compilation by the Centro de Estudios Poéticos de Madrid. “For me, writing is a violent act, an interruption into a state of given things. It is to tear the world a bit. It is to reveal. It’s an upper cut. Writing is to leave without air. That’s why writing is a fight and words are blades, they’re bullets. My principal interest is to subvert with words.”
Precaución: Puertas que sola sirven para salir
Texto:
Precaución (proyecto del collectivo La Línea Interdisciplinario) le da forma a una idea de poética; una red de relaciones que conviven en el mismo plano, un estímulo físico que involucra los sentidos, la emotividad y también el proceso de conocimiento y crea un sentido de significación específico al lector/participante. Funciona con el uso de fragmentos de poesía que irrumpe la cotidianidad. Son textos cortos presentados en la cinta amarilla de precaución. Estos textos fueron escritos para sitios especificos en Tijuana y uno en San Ysidro, para crear un serie de ralaciónes complejas entre el texto, el lector y el sitio. Algunos espacios, como el muro en playas son lugares monumentales, otros en cambio, permanecen sin importancia reconocida. En todos los casos el texto ofrece una perspectiva nueva al lugar y al objeto en el que el texto se coloca.
• Dentro de este proyecto veo dos temas importantes: la relación del material con el sitio y entre éste una idea de violencia de la región, además del cuestionamiento sobre la poesia. La referencia visual de la cinta implica sitios de construcción, sitios de violencia (contra la tierra, un país, mujeres y hombres). Aunque poner una línea sobre una superficie puede ser un acto de violencia, estas cintas pueden ser también una invitación a entablar una relación distinta con una idea, un lugar , un momento. Las cintas hacen una invitación a que la poesía se incorpore a la vida diaria.
• La cinta como material es tan efímera como las palabras sobre su superficie y en la mayor parte de los casos no permanecieron más que unas horas o un día (no era el punto). La permanencia temporal de estos textos ofrece un contraste crudo a muchas de las superficies en que los pusimos, creando capas de fuerzas trabajando juntas. Una fragilidad firme y persistente que invita a la gente a interumpir su rutina diaria, a conocer un momento y a preguntarse ¿por qué aquí? ¿es un poema? ¿por qué este texto? O simplemente a disfrutar las palabras insertas dentro de su camino normal.
• Si la poesia crea un espacio abierto para hacer vínculos entre las pausas con la memoria, los sentidos, la historia (personal y cultural) a través de las palabras, el sonido, las imágenes y los significados. Entonces el acto de intervención artística puede ser la poesia física. Un momento donde el participante puede entrar con su cuerpo y mente en un espacio de imaginación y posibilidad. Las intervenciones de La Línea Interdisciplinario siguen interesándome porque usan estás dos formas. Estas mujeres encuentran la poesía en todo, no solamente en una palabra o voz, algo dicho en cafés o lecturas. Es una perspectiva. Juegan e investigan cómo funciona un poema, cómo crear espacios críticos y accesibles y cómo podemos intervenir, con la poesía, en la vida y los espacios cotidianos. (j.d)
Textos Devastados
Thoughts about the Project:
Kara Lynch:
Estoy recordando las familias que han reunido a la frontera entre las playas en tijuana y friendship park al otro lado, the u.s.a. ellos marcan sus cumpleaños, aniversarios, todos con sus manos estrechan entre los huecos y espacios en la cerca, entre la frontera, entre la línea.
This picnic is bi-lingual and bi-national. They share their favorite foods cuentan las chismas de la vida, del barrio etc but most of all they clasp hands and speak volumes with their eyes. He pensado que es un reuñion como entre las familias cuando uno de ellos esta en el carcel. I always expect some border guard to hurry them along -- that’s all for today.
Los dos dicen: they can build a fence all the way out to the middle of the ocean but they can never separate us.
Los dos dicen: toma mi mano.
Magarita Valencia:
Textos devastados. Sonido reiterativo que anuncia la salida de alguien, sin regreso posible a través de esa vía. ¿Qué significa una puerta? ¿Qué significa una puerta que sólo sirve para salir? ¿Quiénes salen por ella? ¿A dónde dirige esa puerta?. Tijuana es la salida paradójica. La bienvenida —distópica— sin vuelta en U. Una salida sin salida. Es por este motivo que escogí las puertas que sólo sirven para salir.
Además, colocar textos en espacios tan evidentes (y por ello devastadores), significa recuperar estos espacios públicos, que ha pesar de serlo se les da por hecho. Su propia realidad espacial y el transito multitudinario les recluye al olvido a través de la saturación, es decir, son tan reales y están tan allí que se vuelven obsoletos, signos vacíos, insensatos, absurdos, elípticos, sin referencia.
El propósito, entonces, de colocar los textos es enunciar la devastación política, geográfica, mental, comunal y personal que es representada por medio de los espacios elegidos. La acción tiene como fin declarar que estos espacios son lo no-olvidado, no-perdido, lo-no oculto.También, me interesó que la idea de la entrada y la salida tuviera un lugar importante en el texto, porque de esta manera, preguntaba tácitamente: ¿En cuántas partes viene la gente que cruza unas puertas que sólo sirven para salir?
Abril Castro:
*El objetivo de utilizar este formato (amarillo con negro que simula las
tiras que usan los cuerpos policiacos o de rescate) tiene que ver con la
idea de señalar, con el juego de la estrategia metafórica, espacios de la
ciudad que son escenas de crimen, áreas de desastre, zonas de precaución. *
**
*En mi caso interviné una secuencia de vallas publicitarias que se
encuentran en la zona río. Elegí este espacio porque además de ser de el
área de mayor urbanización en Tijuana, concentra también los dos Centros de
Gobierno (Estatal y Municipal), el Centro Comercial más antiguo y exitoso,
y el cruce fronterizo a SanYsidro. Territorios que han marcado
definitivamente la historia y la identidad urbana de la ciudad.*
Transfemmes
Transfemmes is a photo series that documents the transformation of three individuals into their performance of femininity. It questions how, societaly, we have noramlized an image of a constructed performance. The photo series documents a woman transforming into a performance of high femme, a man dressing himself in the likeness of Gretta Garbo in drag, and a woman performing a masculine femininity as a drag king. while the performance is implicit in the images, the documentation itself focuses on the process in an attempt to reveal the transformation as an act of performance itself. When we speak of the performative, we are refering specifically to actions that perform the meaning they are trying to communicate. That dressing is, a part from perfroming for the camera, a perfoemative action which through its own movement speaks to the same construction of identity that the transformation over the series of photos articulates.
gender
identity.
2004
gender
identity.
2004
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