Bouvre

The part that I quoted takes less than the allotted limit. (They also lengthened the character limit, but I think it would fit the old 140, too)

This reads like a "Guy In Your MFA" tweet.

If I procured a sack full of purpose, what would be its sand and teeth?

A burlap sack that's half Indonesian sand and three-quarters lynx teeth.

Jac Jemc's The Grip of It. It's a very compelling haunted house story, and very effortlessly moves between the POV of the husband and wife. The chapter's feel like scenes from a film, in the sense that they move fast and jump from moment to moment. Yet feel complete in an eerie way by themselves.

Read the full article here After becoming the first literate person in his family and a prize-winning poet festooned with awards, Ocean Vuong has now won perhaps his most prestigious accolade yet for his debut collection: the TS Eliot prize. Reflecting on the aftermath of war over three generations, 29-year-old Vuong’s first collection, Night Sky With Exit Wounds, has already landed the Forward prize for best first collection, as well as the Whiting and the Thom Gunn awards. Vuong is only the second debut poet to win the TS Eliot prize. Chair of judges Bill Herbert called Night Sky With Exit Wounds “a compellingly assured debut, the definitive arrival of a significant voice”. “There is an incredible power in the story of this collection,” said Herbert. “There is a mystery at the heart of the book about generational karma, this migrant figure coming to terms with his relationship with his past, his relationship with his father and his relationship with his sexuality. All of that is borne out in some quite extraordinary imagery. The view of the world from this book is quite stunning.” Born in Saigon, Vuong spent a year in a refugee camp as a baby and migrated to America when he was two years old, where he was raised by his mother, grandmother and aunt. Two aspects of Vuong’s life – his sexuality and the absence of his father – recur in his work, with several poems evoking Greek myth to explore the roles of fathers and sons. “Western mythology is so charged with the father,” he told the Guardian in 2017. “Personally, I’m always asking who’s my father. Like Homer, I felt I’d better make it up.” Vuong, who now lives in Massachusetts and works as an assistant professor in the MFA Program for Poets and Writers at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, only gained a taste for poetry in his 20s. He initially put together Night Sky With Exit Wounds for a competition that promised personal rejection to all entrants. “I said, ‘Oh my, a personal rejection. Maybe that’ll give me some tips and push me back out there with a better idea,’” Vuong has recalled – but he received a publishing deal instead. After winning the Forward prize, Vuong told the Guardian that he suspected dyslexia runs in his family, but felt it had positively affected his writing: “I think perhaps the disability helped me a bit, because I write very slowly and see words as objects. I’m always trying to look for words inside words. It’s so beautiful to me that the word laughter is inside slaughter.”

"The Nightwatch is a twenty-channel synched video installation displayed on Hanterex monitors, which are configured in a four-by-five arrangement. Each screen displays a static shot of a room within a deserted art gallery. Within these screens the only discernible movement is that of a fox, which wanders between the rooms, moving across the various screens. The fox periodically pauses to explore underneath the benches or rise up on its hind legs to sniff the paintings. The twenty videos play on a loop. The video can be shown as a standalone piece or installed alongside the maps, sketches and notebooks that Alÿs created while developing the work. When shown, this material is displayed in an adjacent vitrine"

<3

You're definitely Francis Alys' "The Nightwatch"

Azalea Sex

I always knew you were Weber

The founders are debating not inviting her again

There was a consecration ritual added to my ending that I never wrote. The director wanted "all the green" lightning-wise. Celtic music was included for some reason?

Consensus from the people who run the art center: it was a solid first play, scriptwise. My director is probably legally insane.

Good vodka

I've arrived at the space, and was instantly told by my director that they took some big liberties with my script, so now with everybody that's praised my work at this point, I'm worried they're praising the wrong person.

Glad to know I have a market!

Thank you!

My thoughts exactly

I was approached by the people who run the city's new art center to write a short play (10 minutes) for the 48-Hour Theater Festival. We have until 7:30 AM tomorrow to have it complete. The prompt we all voted on at 7:30 PM today was: Stupid Ghost I can't go into much detail. But I can say that I am proud to have written a line of dialogue that includes the sentence, "Fuck, fuck, shit on my balls" and look forward to hearing a stranger say it on stage tomorrow night.

but I just did, and I won't let you stop me.

But then who's going to be sacrificed to ME?

This isn't dancing this is sprinting now do I have to carry you to safety the whole time? Because the creature that crawled out of the ravine is moving mighty fast and I'm losing speed with the extra weight.

No party is complete without Serrano.

If it helps, I've forgotten what it looks like. But I do know I really miss it.