Gerhard Richter, Ruhrtalbrucke (Ruhrtal Bridge)
1969, Oil on Canvas  
 who are you going to be when all this clay flowing through you has
finally become
form, and you catch a glimpse of yourself at daybreak,
...what was it you were told to
- Jorie Graham, Treadmill.


Aran goyoaga's space via sfgirlbybay

One of my favourite internet past-times is collating lists of books to read. Like all good internet past-times, this one is dangerously time consuming, and I am fairly sure I would get an equal amount of enjoyment out of actually reading some of the books occupying the vast lists. That said, I have just finished marching my way through Salman Rushdie's 'Joseph Anton', so am on the lookout for a new (perhaps slightly shorter) read.

So I have many reasons to be thankful to the New York Times for publishing a comprehensive annotated reading list, of their  100 Notable Books of 2013. Because what's the new year for if not to catch up on last year's books.


Thinking about Catton's extraordinary achievement had me reflecting on my brief but honestly exquisite summer time spent flitting in and out of the International Institute of Modern Letters (IIML) here in Wellington.
Earlier this year documentary film-maker Richard Riddiford released his examination of the community that is the IIML and Victoria University Press (VUP, the publishers of The Luminaries). The strength of the community - and its outputs - are evident in various ways throughout the film. Particularly poignant is Eleanor Catton’s discussion of her own progression as a writer - analysing herself and the changes which occur to the creative individual during the process of creation. Catton muses on the distance  that can exist between who you are when you compose one work, versus who you become during the next.
For a more in-depth review, see here.


Hans Ulrich Obrist: Morning Ritual on

Thinking about the new year, and how you want your life to play out. Obrist's rituals is a beautiful way of reconsidering how your everyday routines, which could become mundane, can be sculpted to provide a meaningful, and highly personal, backdrop to your life.


When Fruit and Flowers Hung Thick Falling


Never a gardener, she
became interested
are known to
of information.
where the report
license proved difficult
and potato vines crawled
in the same barrel,
equally the decorative
fringing and clinging to
under a visor
cloth of enough
the number, to wear
into half-glyphs insinuating
the location of past
feeling for roots
they no longer
tending, even
hung thick falling.

in gardening. The dying
make estranging
about the disclosure
Everyone knew
cards were, but the marriage
to locate. Tomato
up different stakes
and she tended
plants, the lobelia and alyssum
the edges, in the sun
fuzzy with the terry
vacations to forget
the lettering
but not stating
happiness. She knelt,
at the waist,
her hands in dirt
even when

when fruit and flowers
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