THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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MONTEZ·PRESS·2015
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C
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P
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S
A
N
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S
HATTY NESTOR
HANNAH REGEL
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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DE S T IN Y
Destiny is not a feeling, not a cultivation of identity, but a complex metropolis constructed by synchronizing materials. Each element of Destiny’s materiality exists as
its own unified sculpture, individual ontology, presenting a unique dialogue and
visceral language to the viewer. The form rests lonely amongst its others, differentiated by the visual colour in which signified, accurately personified, the individual
form pieces limp and pregnant with emotion.Thick slabs of foam lay gently upon
one another, constructing a composition which appears constructivist as a visual
manifestation of a stacking of house of cards; a deliberate layering of similar forms.
This daring construction surrenders to the uncertainty of in-balance, a quasi object of irregular weight.
The function of text thus mirrors the objectification of material forms.The material elements of Destiny perform not the outside, visceral and visual experiences of
the substances employed, but make paramount the interaction between opposing
forms. Each substance within Destiny exemplifies our preconceived ideas of the
performativity it encompasses; the rigid glass, miniscule glass and soft, bending
foam. When forms are as simplistic as these, the viewer is invited to elaborate and
construct their own meaning and significations of what the object compels to
be. The formation has natural relations between inside and outside, exterior and
interior motifs of materiality. Destiny is the moment in which you surrender to
vulnerability, when your mode of forming associations to another align with your
anxiety.
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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WATCH ING TIM E PAS S T H O RU G H T H E H U E O F A BRU IS E
Mould is beautiful because it looks like an uprising
“I am coming for you” is an aesthetic
“I am coming for you” is an aesthetic I can get behind
It also says
“Form has consequences”
And
“I love myself and I want to live”
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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IF S WEAT WA S C O N S E QU E N C E
A stench is a smothering like
If want had a signature scent
They would milk it from the resinous buds
Of what I am obliged to offer
And turn it over in cement
And paste it to the bulwarks
And we would do that for every girl
And the world would stink of longing so bad
That power would feel like it was wading
Through what is perpetual
And I think it would surrender
Because then it would know
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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N E X T T IM E
ARCHIVE OF THOUGHTS EMBEDDED IN OWN KEEPING
METRAMONE WAYS
WHAT SITUATION
PEOPLE ALWAYS REMEMBER WHATS CONVENIENT
SOME PEOPLE, LIKE PHRASES, SIT RELUCTANTLY IN YOUR HEART
WHATS MOST PROGRESSIVE IS OFTEN AT THE FOREFRONT OF FEAR
I WILL BE MOVING IN THE STREETS OF YOU
WALKING THE STRING OF YOUR WEB
ACHING
BONES OF A FRAGILE CREATURE
TURNING UP TIME AND TIME AGAIN
DYING AND BEING ON DEMAND
REPETITION OF YOUR BODILY HABITS INFULTRATING MY OWN
YOUR SELF RESPECT IS IN DISSARRY
ROTTING
DISAPPEARING
LIMITING WHATS NATURAL ONCE AGAIN
don’t worry I know things about desperation.
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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MONTEZ·PRESS·2015
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ADVICE FROM T H E M E N IN M Y L IFE
It is like this:
If you cut off an arm and plant it
It will not grow
Nor will conjuring perform accretion.
Antimacassars draped onto the world
Soft and fake
Bloodless and floating;
Pancake testicles and rubber ribs.
A pervert
You said,
Unable to muster enough meaning
To provide an alternative
Like living
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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O IL
that familiar flood
gushing in the evening
unattainable
uncontrollable
ever upon this stage
selves linger
the precious valleys of yesterdays emotional pallet.
grey gaps disclose themselves
I may never situate myself firmly in the grip of contentment
when will this fall through the floor?
the masses and the singular (Me,,,,,,,,,,,
you(
what a contrary terrain
to dance around
it is good to hear the rain. Tiny movements of foreclosure
placid lives
desert planes
enchanted days.
we are the duo which could have tamed these disobedient relations
to the alien entity
we name society.
I marvel in what appears to you so potent, so rich in purpose.
a grey wall for me now— stained grey curtains, overly grey teabags
sagging in the corner
this is what I’m made of
a slippery oil
one in which you so knowingly smothered me in
and is impossible for me to crawl out of
leaves unsettling marks next to the pillow of my bed
like anonymous finger prints
Darling, your cruelty makes me alive
It’s a miracle
oneiric life
what an amorous frenzy
I’ve met London in your face
and smelt whisky on your breath
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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I VO RY TOW E R
A privileged seclusion from the practicalities of real life
a disdain iron taste
in my mouth
feeding off each other
Offering this only amounts to a chaotic equation
I want to work this out
but the actions are sketchy
like traces of an organised surprise
or the death of a birthday party
two cream stone statues approach one another
a meeting
an encounter
a fleeting moment
(them, the other)
they watched all our meetings
when we said (un)comfortable things to one another
lies
smothered our self respect
like moulding blankets
four rows
Of people
four hands
What a perfect symmetry.
You must stay awake until this ends
Or you’ll be sleeping on the steps of Omen.
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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I U S ED TO B E ALL L IG H T I U S E D TO BE S O L IG H T
Melt your heart to the sky everything in this
One last effort to exorcise the sharpness
Dyed black with negligence
Not quite
Older
Sulking
After
Stained joints brandy hip
Flask blown
On the bowling green. Charlie
Red. Better now but still
Remember
How little you used to care
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RES EA R C H O N DR E A D
Four Reactions to a Public Crisis:
Contaminated food elicits strong disgust, and rumours of food contamination
often arouse social panics.
‘Madness’ has negative emotional associations because it evokes a lack of control
and predictability.
Language theorists have argued that naming a disease makes people feel as if they
have delimited it:
‘‘A disease well named seems half cured’’.
The mad cow is me, and this has given me a joy, an extraordinary joy.
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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V IR G IN S O IL S
cultivating purity
the unstoppable beginnings overlap and interpenetrate
comic-book characters pulsating with pain
Inside those party
favours (sickening)
Since
several major bodies
Touch the core of the density (inflicted) With their
form of a rich sampling / She’s the Venus of her own body,
and group potency or fertility illustrated next to that station on
West 23rd
THE·INTERJECTION·CALENDAR·VII
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MONTEZ·PRESS·2015
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INS TRU C T IO N S FO R A BU R IA L
After I got fired I dug my nails into the arm of an autistic boy on the bus
He said he liked how long they were
And that he would like to feel them.
I offered him my hand to touch and he said no not like that
So I dug them into his arm and he said yes that’s better and it was
Now, money is clenching
Little half moons on the palm of my hands
And I can see how easily I am emptied out by you
For you
So that there is room for you
It is inevitable, and so beautiful
That the fresh stages begin immediately
That the buildup of pressure is combined with a loss
That the integrity of skin cannot hold out during. It is fair to
Scoop out of me what you need. At this point
Seriously
Take it
Lay it out
Make a landscape
A clean death is as real as our hunger