HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Thursday, July 03, 2008 plant 109th street and broadway--am stopped by a beautiful boy in skinny jeans, he asks me to support gay rights in america. on the 1 train on 42 st, i ask a man what he is reading, 30 days of night, he says, in it the northernest of the northernest towns is submerged in darkness for 30 days and attacked by zombies. we laugh. that's awesome, i tell him, i love it already. across the road on 111th, a baby is crying. i had a half-day today. the fourth of july weekend. i am helping to publicise the best american comics 2008. i'm also reading ozick's heir to a glimmering world--in it rosie, orphaned at 18, becomes the typist/babysitter/housekeeper to a haphazard family of german immigrants. set in new york in the 1930s, it takes us through rainswept bronx streets, the grime of manhattan, the secrets of a mad woman (is her madness a ruse? like hamlet?). it's wonderful. the typewritter seems a central motiff for ozick--the upcoming dictation is a fictitious novel about the (female) typists who transcribe the novels of megalomaniac male white writers (i think conrad is one of them, if i am not wrong). fernando, my peruvian friend in cornell who is a grad student in south american literature, is staying over this weekend, and i am excited too. i sent off a letter yesterday. i finally made the decision, after half a year of agonizing. i actually do grasp the magnitude of what i have chosen. i've put my parents through grief, but i think we've all become closer through this, and i love them for everything. i look outside, and i miss home, i miss ithaca, but new york is beautiful, and i am in love, burning, occasionally afraid to, but determined to become someone. i hold my life in my hands like a plant. posted by dawn # 1:17 PM Comments: we had a joint birthday party today at ian's for hui zhen and junyong. ian mentioned that you and i share the same birthday, and i missed you. =( remember you gave me roses one year and i gave you gerberas the next? hope there are lots of lovely gerberas in nyc. talk to them. =) much love, nj # posted by Anonymous : 9:29 AM this is just to say, ive started to read this again, hope you dont mind. i hope the letter is what i think it is. i hope you are happy and good. i have decided to come out from exile and start writing again on a new site(add an l to my current blog address) after overcoming an obscene amount of laziness. i hope to catch you soon when i get over there, somehow. cheers, -tee # posted by Anonymous : 11:55 AM Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] i wrote this after leaving for new york. Ars Poeti... the man at the gate breaking bread his mother gave me a silver and glass pendant, it'... jaz The Summer Train i heart new york beautiful justin running with donald [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Thursday, July 03, 2008

plant

109th street and broadway--am stopped by a beautiful boy in skinny jeans, he asks me to support gay rights in america. on the 1 train on 42 st, i ask a man what he is reading, 30 days of night, he says, in it the northernest of the northernest towns is submerged in darkness for 30 days and attacked by zombies. we laugh. that's awesome, i tell him, i love it already. across the road on 111th, a baby is crying. i had a half-day today. the fourth of july weekend. i am helping to publicise the best american comics 2008. i'm also reading ozick's heir to a glimmering world--in it rosie, orphaned at 18, becomes the typist/babysitter/housekeeper to a haphazard family of german immigrants. set in new york in the 1930s, it takes us through rainswept bronx streets, the grime of manhattan, the secrets of a mad woman (is her madness a ruse? like hamlet?). it's wonderful. the typewritter seems a central motiff for ozick--the upcoming dictation is a fictitious novel about the (female) typists who transcribe the novels of megalomaniac male white writers (i think conrad is one of them, if i am not wrong). fernando, my peruvian friend in cornell who is a grad student in south american literature, is staying over this weekend, and i am excited too.

i sent off a letter yesterday. i finally made the decision, after half a year of agonizing. i actually do grasp the magnitude of what i have chosen. i've put my parents through grief, but i think we've all become closer through this, and i love them for everything. i look outside, and i miss home, i miss ithaca, but new york is beautiful, and i am in love, burning, occasionally afraid to, but determined to become someone. i hold my life in my hands like a plant.

posted by dawn # 1:17 PM

Comments:

we had a joint birthday party today at ian's for hui zhen and junyong. ian mentioned that you and i share the same birthday, and i missed you. =( remember you gave me roses one year and i gave you gerberas the next? hope there are lots of lovely gerberas in nyc. talk to them. =)

much love,
nj

# posted by

Anonymous : 9:29 AM

this is just to say, ive started to read this again, hope you dont mind. i hope the letter is what i think it is. i hope you are happy and good. i have decided to come out from exile and start writing again on a new site(add an l to my current blog address) after overcoming an obscene amount of laziness. i hope to catch you soon when i get over there, somehow.
cheers,
-tee

# posted by

Anonymous : 11:55 AM