Maddy Chrisman-Miller grew up in Portland, Oregon and currently lives in Atlanta,
Georgia (USA). She is a writer and artist with an interest in experimental processes
often involving accumulation, fragmentation, constraint, and collage. A chaotic and
informal collection of her work currently resides at

And the Eyes Have Driven the Mouth to Bed

We push our way into the next room, my father is trussing the legs and wings. Not one word, not one gesture. It has a bitter, pungent smell (this room) and the primary colors and the chop bones. I still haven't told you about mom's tongue or what she used to whisper loudly enough for everyone to hear. Now the bundle of greased wrappers frightens me. I try to explain this factious disorder and he moves his chair slightly away from the table. At once, with out any limit, the burnt marks manifest according to the vision, I can't pronounce the word and I am nearly transparent. What if the visitor takes the sensible image of meat or fish and attempts to persuade it away? The visitor in his displacement. Before I had the chance to acquire communication, we were about something beyond ourselves. He un-molded us over the serving dish with hot water and reversal. How would you like to proceed, she asks me, this friend of mine. "Involuntarily." I understand why she asks in the line of being, she no longer sees any other way out. I conclude nothing.

As a Hosanna

During the next seven minutes I will gradually thin out the vegetation. You will progress on to the next station. The cresses disappear and become stunted grease-wood. Something else approaches out of sight.

We have come to a stage where there is absolutely nothing that cannot come above ground. Like a well-kept field just after it has been plowed and cultivated, not a stick or stone appears until it is encountered miles and miles beneath.

There is no indication of man. In order to form this picture we must imagine man's presence at floor level, visible or invisible. You are covered with an incrustation of alkali which breaks and sinks to ankle-deep, where the soil is soft and fine as powder.

The worst aspect of this stage is the picture of a gale which fills the air with particles, obscures the faintest idea of reality and experience. Everyone knows the efficacy of this place. For now we must settle for a poor conception of the sun and expect the predominance of animal geometry.

My maturation is not excessive, but from the change of temperature alone I can justly infer some action, or youth, which may be desirable. And may be maternal. A great array of rainfall is a very general way to describe it. The hottest parts of me have an immunity from modification.

Fragments from Optic Slip 124

Now I can imagine your modernism and know that I am nothing different. Intellect to think it. Cataclysm to Crete. They would continue, they would be saying—what would they be saying? In a deep voice on this beautiful evening, "Admiration, religious heat, is alive in the heaps of peat asleep in the mind. How could it be otherwise?" Altogether or partly is the method itself codependent anyway, here is a broken bead.


An example begs you to legislate the plane. Not above the body, not above Goethe or operations. Eye the security regime. Magi first to foci, quite obviously alive and fresh and cold and transferred here to do so. I read in the mines an access point to the sparks and the stripping. A warm dark dipping into elapse, in the upper half rather, the arc that he is mapping. Cash machine necks on mounts and mashing matter into gray. Lass is blabbering on no way home or to survive this dam. Long skein capacity of Morgan and the divisible orthodox. As she fantasized, she thrives. "Voluntary imagined blossoming," becoming pre-patterned, even orgasmic. If the mechanics matter, master the mechanics. One would leave one, resigned to stripping the bachelors by the sparks of their stripping.


To obey the dictum, I must produce new unities. And it is to this we really must insist. "Leotard," he frequently declared, "cannot extinguish." Reactions between birth and tending within every consequence. Within the surface. Within the convictions, within the algorithm. With their forecast. Not so it does to source its own leavening. Remove from the field all possible parents. A sensual conformist could legislate and undertake the natural autonomy of clay. But worse, an inner knot tied, and expression reduced the structure to classical observation. Charming guile unrepentant for the body. Indisposed like Garey is, always dependent on some darkened room, smelling of chamomile.

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