In case anyone thinks my weblog post title promiscuously original [or just plain promiscuous], let me just first say that it cites a line from a song on Betsy's latest CD mixtape edition of the Tim Spence Experiment, which mixtape I listened to on my way home to Saint Louis from Kalamazoo, and I couldn't help but think how apropos the line was to how I felt about Kalamazoo this year. Obviously, it is late at night [just trust me on this one] and I need to go to bed, and I will be writing several fuller posts about the Congress as the week progresses, but I did not want to let the night pass without expressing my emotions. To Jeffrey Cohen, to Betsy McCormick, to Myra Seaman, to Karl Steel, to Justin Brent, to Nicola Masciandaro, to Anna Klosowska, to Dan Remein, to Christine Neufeld, to Mary Kate Hurley, to Robin Norris, and beyond . . . . close your eyes, and let me kiss you. Or, as Patti Labelle once put it at the end of a concert, "I love you, I love you all, but I gotta go."
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Close Your Eyes, and Let Me Kiss You
In case anyone thinks my weblog post title promiscuously original [or just plain promiscuous], let me just first say that it cites a line from a song on Betsy's latest CD mixtape edition of the Tim Spence Experiment, which mixtape I listened to on my way home to Saint Louis from Kalamazoo, and I couldn't help but think how apropos the line was to how I felt about Kalamazoo this year. Obviously, it is late at night [just trust me on this one] and I need to go to bed, and I will be writing several fuller posts about the Congress as the week progresses, but I did not want to let the night pass without expressing my emotions. To Jeffrey Cohen, to Betsy McCormick, to Myra Seaman, to Karl Steel, to Justin Brent, to Nicola Masciandaro, to Anna Klosowska, to Dan Remein, to Christine Neufeld, to Mary Kate Hurley, to Robin Norris, and beyond . . . . close your eyes, and let me kiss you. Or, as Patti Labelle once put it at the end of a concert, "I love you, I love you all, but I gotta go."
I love you too! shamelessly,
ReplyDeleteNicola
I just wanted to say, you are my life, my everything. I was so sad that Kzoo ended, and I won't see or hear you, and how can I not? It's easier now that I am a lodestar, and have been kissed.
ReplyDeleteI want you all to know how seriously deranged I am by you, in a good way. Being something, anything for you is the only thing that eases the pain.
I am serious--I was asking Michael O'Rourke how to get a mermaid mohawk so I can enter the hair contest. It's like when you get a tatoo because you love someone. I love you, love so much, Anna
And we, Anna, are blissed out by you in return.
ReplyDeleteCan we please award Michael an honorary lodestar? He asked if he could be one. He's my lodestar for sure.
ReplyDeleteI could not help myself, because it's so beautiful, so I am attaching his latest design for the next, 2009 Kzoo Hair Contest. I hope the Contest does not only apply to actual hair, but also to hair fantasies? Because we want to enter as a group, and some of us will be un-present. We were thinking of including Guthlac:
I think we should co-enter the hair contest with
colored mer-hawks made from twisted pages of Derrida's
Papier Machine (you can choose your own). People will
be wondering if it is hair or an elaborately folded
dress we are sporting on our elegant heads. And we
shall spin like dervishes so they shall be truly
confounded.
Oh my god--the idea of a coiffure made from twisted pages from Derrida's "Papier Machine" is just cracking me up. Of course, Michael can also be a lodestar; although we have never met, his "roguish" and traveling theory has always shined brightly in my firmament. When I meet him next week, I will tell him so myself.
ReplyDeleteBetsy wants me to point out that this thing called the Tim Spence Experiment [17 or so songs on a CD] is not a "mixtape"--it is a memory tape. Okay, Betsy, I get it. I get it.
ReplyDelete