I feel it's too late to diary my one-day in New York. It was full, it was eventful. Throughout I was in a bright state of pain, although was able to take several steroid pills that day, before they tapered off, as they have now, so at a resting position I was comfortable. The steroids that make me swollen, rashed, itchy. My shoulderblade, the deferred pinched nerve, is not better. The drugs are just tapering off.
What else? Jenna Sauers interviewed me in the Bookforum offices on Green Girl, nonfiction vs. fiction, my relationship to journalism, fucking bassists vs. geniuses. I think, I hope, I was coherent. That will be up soon, as a podcast and a transcript. I saw blogging friends, and hope I was also, clear and semi-coherent. I read with Masha and Trinie at St. Marks. Eileen Myles later wrote of the reading on the Poetry Foundation site, calling my reading in drag, which made me think and meditate on the notion of drag and masquerade in being a published author, also in being a published woman writer.
Monday at an ungodly hour John and I leave for Boulder, Colorado, for the symposium at Naropa. But! This morning I actually wrote my talk. It is probably too fucking long. I am happy with it. At the beginning I cribbed a bit from The Book of Mutter, which I will also read, on the lawn, outside the admin building on Tuesday, where our violent pink silk sculptures will hang on vintage wire hangers. Addendum: It will be more of an ACTION/PERFORMANCE from Book of Mutter, as a source/mother text, than a traditional reading. Monday to visit two classes - to speak philosophy of the girl and publishing to Bhanu's class, to speak Green Girl and meditate on Hour of the Star I think to the other class? Bookforum asked me if I was interested in writing about Clarice Lispector, all the new ND reissues - I said yes, maybe, if I can get the poster of all of the various covers. I now want to go to Brazil and meditate on Clarice Lispector. I am also writing an 8,000 word essay for Two Dollar Radio's Frequency magazine on Acker and the Acker archive, and something approx that length on Girls and the girl, and sex and feminism, for n+1. Due end of summer, beginning of fall. Got to start cracking. Oh, went to Francesca Woodman exhibit pre-interview. That made me think of Lena Dunham too, but I have to figure that out more.
Oh also Tuesday night I will be reading 15 minutes from Heroines at Naropa, open to the public. I think a section on violence, although I almost want to read the same passage I read at &Now, because it'd be so perfect, but hate to recycle. And then Wednesday for the panel my talk: "On Apoplexia, Toxic Shock, and Toilet Bowl: Some Notes on Writing." Please come!
Also: I have a plea for you all. I need beautiful, voluptuous reading material that is easy, in a way, but satisfying and useful. The model for this maybe: Madame Bovary, although I've read that too many times recently. But something like that. Maybe 19th century. Should I read Edith Wharton? Henry James? Something like that. I am craving narrative, in bed, with the heating pad and the dry mouth and the pain. I bought Faulkner in New Orleans but now I don't know. Should I reread Carson McCullers? Something like that. Any advice? What have you read lately, that is beautiful, and that I can sink into? I don't always want to read beauty, but when you are not feeling well, sometimes I crave that.