notes on starfucking (v.1, not to be confused with 'resource fucking')

I do luv this term: starfucking …. star (*) fucking. While it is not used (as such) it is something that is present in the Sontag biography I read. Like people considered whether she liked to know famous people. I was once at a church party with Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams, and to explain it further would be inconsequential. Conditionally, I like to know famous people. I would say.  Edmund White’s hand on my leg, but that won’t work for showing pure happenstance. A chance encounter with Kele Okereke on the LES, but I think I was considering straight fucking on that occasion. But my ex showed up and blew the scene. However, when I consider the ‘starfucking’ as I’ve heard it bandied about, I’ve decided its not necessarily a sexual thang. Once at the Tennessee Walking Horse Celebration in Shelbyville (TN), I decided to pass by Zsa Zsa Gabor’s box seat and casually ask her for an autograph. She declined. Queen. It’s ok because I got out of it what I wanted. I wanted to be close to her. I don’t know why a 14 year old gay kid wants that, but I did. In fact she obliged what I really wanted with a lick of rudeness in her curt refusal. 

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THE MORNING

This sorrowdoes not belong to you it belongs to the air that evaporates              to the light               that shatters               like glass You take to the street with the crossbow tensed against the chiaroscuro of the city               beautifully               wounded Running across the streets until the entire city disappears under your steps               only shadows               left And to the east the sea unattainable the rumour the tide the dark that murmurs               the moon has fallen               into the water Running through the night void of dreams looking for me on empty train platforms               boats               departing You run without finding me there is no one there except one man              one man               every man Walking raining the night settles into his eyes on his back he carries an entire village while in his hands bloom flowers               fish He hides crouching down behind park trees waiting for infinity to open He sleeps surrounded by the echo of birds and sirens his boots covered in star dust And the visible resignation of those who have walked across constellations You run without finding me there is no one there except one man              one man               every man You want to cry with him for the newborns and bid farewell with laughter to the dead You want to remember every stone with your fingers and see the light nesting over the buildings I am sitting right here on the edge of the night contemplating that so other lost in the woods               the brume It so happens that I believe in the clouds in their neatly written pages In the trees that carry a vessel in their womb               sometimes I think               I am a tree I see you running desolated among the men who sleep on the sidewalks like gardens               drinking               dew Exhausted you return home behind each door you open hides a moon The morning is an illegal child innocent who runs seduced by the cold air that lacerates the skin And quietly with the fallen night makes a star While you fall defeated over deserted sheets beside you lies down an adolescent wind just about to beget birds The astral solitude that you inhabit does not belong to you it belongs to me And even if my language is rain and your voice a river that carries the drowned we will trust one another like a child trusts another child               and let go Anyone can grab the dawn but I improvising riding this poem bareback I can set the world on fire and reinvent it with words Under the bed I leave you my heart so that in it you may plough look for treasures bury your dead

‘People in Trouble’ at Thirty: On Realism, Trump, and the AIDS Cataclysm

Thirty years after its completion, my novel People in Trouble has taken on resonance far beyond my original passions and intention. Its most notorious cultural eruptions: the uncredited derivations of the novel into the musical Rent, and the premonitional nightmare of Donald Trump as a world “leader”–are filled with meaning and have been fodder for speculation. Yet these later manifestations stray far from the originating emotions, influences and open-hearted vulnerabilities that led me to write it in the first place.

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Relatoría Sesión #6 – Disidencia Sonora

Laboratorio Luciérnagas

Relatoría 24 Agosto

sesión #6

disidencia sonora

artista invitado: Mauricio Rivera Henao

lugar: Adorno – Liberia

Relatoría:

Mauricio Rivera es artista sonoro, también trabaja con video e instalaciones. Tiene una pregunta constante por el territorio.

Disidencia = contra hegemónico

Obra: un diálogo con el lago Titicaca

Paisaje sonoro: retratar los paisajes en término sonoros. Volver plástica la materia sonora. Habla de tener conversaciones con insectos o minerales como gesto contra hegemónico ( disidente ).

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Relatoría Sesión #7 – Cuerpos Fluidos

Laboratorio Luciérnagas
Relatoría 7 septiembre
sesión #7
cuerpos fluidos

artista invitado: Juan Manuel Mosquera
lugar: Jardín Botánico de Bogotá

Taller
Exploración de las posibilidades expresivas del cuerpo a partir de un reconocimiento y una apertura del espacio sensible.

Actividades
Reconocer y explorar las tres llaves del espacio sensible: el peso del cuerpo, sentir y hacer consciente la respiración y permitir la consciencia del cuerpo en su totalidad (sentir su totalidad en el momento presente.
Ejercicios de composición instantánea: sentir y escuchar mi movimiento y el movimiento de los otros cuerpos en el espacio. Esta idea se exploró a través del ejercicio “eje” un trabajo en parejas y grupal al mismo tiempo que busca la escucha y la coordinación permitiendo una composición coreográfica. Ejercicios de contacto: reconocer el movimiento a través del contacto con otro cuerpo, se invitó a los participantes a desarrollar pautas de consciencia y descubrimiento del movimiento a través de entrar en contacto con otro cuerpo, la potencia expresiva del toque, del masaje y del movimiento en contacto a través del espacio.

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Eu tive Aids por 2 meses

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Support Marina Vergueiro’s crowdfunding for the PROJETO EXPOSTA

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Eu tive Aids por dois meses.
Há 7 anos, eu tive Aids por dois meses.
AIDS.
AIDS mesmo.
Olha só.
Não morri.
Eu continuo aqui.
A Aids não.
Ela vazou.
Evaporou de mim
E sumiu.
A Aids é coisa do meu passado,
Desde que me tornei indetectável.
Já o HIV sobreviveu
Assim como eu.
O HIV é um vírus que você não vê…
Pois eu pareço tanto a você!
Não é mesmo?
Eu poderia ser você
E você poderia ser eu
O HIV não escolhe bicha, machão,
santa ou ateu,
tanto faz aonde você se meteu
Ou com quem você meteu.
O HIV é meu E é teu,
É de quem cruzar O caminho,
Seja monogâmica, “fiel”, bolsominion,
Esquerdomacho, idosa, tarado,
Mãe de família, trava, empresário,
O HIV se lixa se você tá no armário!

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Relatoría Sesión #5 – Arte & Tecnología

Laboratorio Luciérnagas

Relatoría Agosto 10 - 2019

sesión #5

grupo de estudio

Invitada:

Constanza González

Relatoría:

Constanza fue directora de la Lida Colombiana de Lucha contra el Sida hace unos 15 años. Ahora trabaja para la fundación Keralty - Colsánitas en temas relacionados a redes de cuidado en un programa llamado Ciudades compasivas que opera en Bogotá, Ibagué, Manizales, Sta Marta, Cali, Medellín. La metodología es española. Constanza vinoacompañada de Ferney Camacho que trabaja también en el programa Ciudad Compasiva desde hace unos años.

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