An article from dezeen.com
But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day. That is real freedom. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default-setting, the “rat race” — the constant gnawing sense of having had and lost some infinite thing.
“Our categories are important. We cannot organize a social life, a political movement, or our individual identities and desires without them. The fact that categories invariably leak and can never contain all the relevant “existing things” does not render them useless, only limited. Categories like “woman,” “butch,” “lesbian,” or “transsexual” are all imperfect, historical, temporary, and arbitrary. We use them, and they use us. We use them to construct meaningful lives, and they mold us into historically specific forms of personhood. Instead of fighting for immaculate classifications and impenetrable boundaries, let us strive to maintain a community that understands diversity as a gift, sees anomalies as precious, and treats all basic principles with a hefty dose of skepticism.”
— Gayle Rubin “Of Catamites and Kings: Reflections on Butch, Gender, and Boundaries.” 1992. Reprinted in The Transgender Studies Reader, edited by Susan Stryker and Stephen Whittle, 2006, page 47 and found in this post.
Translated from Polish by Graźyna Drabik and Austin Flint
What must you do?
You must submit an application
and enclose a Curriculum Vitae.
Regardless of how long your life is,
the Curriculum Vitae should be short.
Be concise, select facts.
Change landscapes into addresses
and vague memories into fixed dates.
Of all your loves, mention only the marital,
and of the children, only those who were born.
It’s more important who knows you
than whom you know.
Travels––only if abroad.
Affiliations––to what, not why.
Awards––but not for what.
Write as if you never talked with yourself,
as if you looked at yourself from afar.
Omit dogs, cats, and birds,
mementos, friends, dreams.
State price rather than value,
title rather than content.
Shoe size, not where one is going,
the one you are supposed to be.
Enclose a photo with one ear showing.
What counts is its shape, not what it hears.
What does it hear?
The clatter of machinery that shreds paper.
By Susan Greene
…Between the lines of the ones that do, most letters from solitary say the same thing: That we’re all higher than the lowest things we’ve ever done…
Image by Steve Davis
“Mama Atim says you are tired of London. You cannot bear it anymore. London is cold. London is a monster which gives no jobs. London is no cosy exile forthe banished. London is no refuge for the immoral. Mama Atim says this word immoral to me – slowly and emphatically in Japadhola, so it can sink into my head. She wants me to hear the word in every breath, sniff it in every scent so it can haunt me like that day I first touched you. Like the day you first touched me. Mine was a cold unsure hand placed over your right breast. Yours was a cold scared hand, which held my waist and pressed it closer to you, under the jambula tree in front of her house.”
(to read the whole story click on the “chapter one” link. You totally should!)