jari m

Category: Art & Review

  • art picks, no. x

    Things I’d stare at forever, had I the time. I was supposed to write about the things I’ve been up to the last two or so weeks –new books and TV series and people– but instead this post came out. I was reading books on art yesterday, in that window of time when I had…

  • i feel the unraveling (i am very fragile)

    WARNING: Poetry reading is bad for your health. Falling in attraction with people has known physiological symptoms: a tied tongue, dilated eyes, sweaty hands, wet lips.  Falling to death with words should be no different.

  • An Observation

    The night before the self-styled Fight of the Century (the Pacquaio-Mayweather boxing event), I watched some of the best scenes from two of my favorite action films of all time, Ip Man and Ip Man 2. In this scene in the sequel, the humble protagonist goes against the odds and fights the arrogant and almost completely unlikable Twister. It’s a…

  • today in modern art

    today in modern art

    I was hanging out with the kids again.

  • a narrative on addiction, inspired by last night

    Possible Titles: i. i’m pretty sure i’m trying to say something with this piece, but even i can’t tell. the author is dead. hurrah. ii. i can justify anything if i try hard enough iii. smoking may not be the best euphemism in this case iv. wink, wink; and v. this isn’t a poem, it…

  • censored

    The page begins with the question Do you think I’ll break your heart? and later ends with a reminder to self, that the loveliest things in the world don’t come for free; they need to be paid with a currency of regrets and hopes and bravery. And in the middle, the letter admits: a single…

  • yesterday’s trash

  • draft: lessons in magic. and

    Lessons in Magic, last night. “Here is what you must always remember,” she said, “all forms of magic require the entirety of the universe. You have to fill yourself up, from the dirt of your feet to the edges of your sight, with the lightness of the sky. Consume everything, weightless, until your fingertips reach…

  • some localized anarchy

    Interrogate my body. Question the heart why its beat is five times more fast, its rhythm many times more irregular. Examine the way the skin flushes, the nervous tics of two slick hands. Demand answers from its lips, red-bitten and sore. And chase that errant voice — why is it gone when you are near?…