2 L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann

STATEMENT // LOW AT DUPLEX GALLERY PORTLAND, OREGON RECEPTION 02.06.14 18:00-21:00

"Every picture is a picture of the body. "Psychological suffering, though oen In addition to the perceptions and de#‐ Lastly, this show is about communica‐ Every work of art is a representation of difficult for any one person to express… nitions of the body, this show is also tion and camaraderie. We learn from the body." -James Elkins is so habitually depicted in art that, as about control. Control in the sense of each other. We become props to support. omas Mann's Sattembrini reminds us, obsession, compulsion, coping, We sympathize and empathize. ere is is show is about self perceptions, bod‐ there is virtually no piece of literature exorcism, and self preservation. What do a lack of candid conversation about be‐ ily de#nition, and our collective experi‐ that is not about suffering, no piece of we do to mitigate disaster, to soen the ing/living that we feel our work will ad‐ ence. Spanning an array of representa‐ literature that does not stand by ready to psychological blow of paranoia and neu‐ dress. We aim to start a dialogue, to be‐ tion and interpretation, the work pre‐ assist us." -Elaine Scarry rosis--the ways in which we keep our gin a conversation. // sented will deal with the struggle of the bodies together. corporeal. L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann 3

see chemo everywhere. i meditate with as we move from earth into online on‐ JOHNNY ATLAS // friends living in the hospice behind the wards to space...... it seems less and less humble little room we sit in. clear what or where boundaries are. how do we talk about all the storms and who to survive. the plant that gets trampled survival of the #ttest. every plant for my own body has not escaped the sci‐ do we talk too? do i ask why you are sud‐ by a tractor. destroyed. the plant that himself. science. progress. hard luck. ence experiment. just as the earth has denly bald? how do we get real about grows outside the path of torn up been covered in the sores of progress and survival? wheels. hard luck being the plant beneath the clear cutting and toxic water. so too i tractor. hard luck being livestock lied #nd my skin covered in sores. initially i (insert writers and artists. the coura‐ the animals. the livestock of dakota so bloated dead from earth to air. hard luck was told i had scabies. i found this amus‐ geous spiritual warriors unafraid to show destroyed. lied off the pasture by loud being human against the wind of a ty‐ ing at 40 never having lived in a punk a changing landscape or shiing lan‐ machines. long gone. unlike other cows phoon. hard luck the life from science house. guage. talk to me about the bandages. i elsewhere with better weather. chewing and progress. will sketch in charcoal how my skin is the cud, grass poking out, eyes tender. when i went back for my scabies check shiing. we are people and plants and i oen idealize wood and water. i live a up two months later, the doctor looked animals changing against the winds. the humans. thrown about by the wind. a simple life. no social networking. no on‐ at my leg #rst and told me to get used to wood still burns, but so does the boy swept to sea in england. all genders line dating. no fancy job or computer the sores as they were simply a part of water). // hanging from trees following the philip‐ car. i chop wood for heat and walk to a getting old. she called them wisdom ine typhoon. the ones walking beneath. well for water. my truck runs on old gas. spots. when we moved to my back, she shaken. survived. repair. taking the fami‐ my bike has no gears. simple. frowned saying there were too many ly from the tree. spots. i do have a computer. i do read the world this halloween i watched an old horror news online. this is where i learn about i assured her i was very wise. in the last #lm alone. the thing from another world. livestock being destroyed by extreme year i had my heart laughed at, spit on, there were so many things to love in this weather. where i read about countries and split open broken. my mom had #lm. the arctic. james arness from gun‐ being ripped apart by storms. it is where died. loss upon loss piled upon me the smoke before he was marshall matt dy‐ i watch the new reality of the body go by. year previous and i assured her it had lan. the beautiful so and so who played grown me wise in ways i wished upon no the scientist. she used rope and rum to so swily we have all been hearded on‐ one. 'irt with the airforce pilot. his hands line. americans and their i-phones. digi‐ were tied behind his back, they were tal. informed. in space. the life of aliens. (insert artists and writers. some of the laughing, they kissed. the life of less gravity. botanical gardens bravest people ever. spiritual soldiers of on spaceships. vegan chefs in space. the union where pain and devastation of the premise was this alien was made of the body and spirit meet in the heart to plant matter. made of plant matter, it did all the while we run around with what is transcend and create) away with emotions and feelings. it just le of time on planet earth. the word was. it grew and thrived and survived. cancer spreads from friend to friend. i ART

the doctor looked at the map upon my skin and said biopsy. then we moved the treasure map north from my mid section to the land of gold around my le eye. i asked about all the weird warts appear‐ ing. i was assured age was unfolding the map of my skin. normal.

as she looked closer she saw the mystery mark beneath my le eye. what is that she wanted to know. no one knows i told her. she said it looked as if it had been biopsied. no i told her, its just changed over time......

words like biopsy and cancer fell from her mouth. before i knew it i was carted into another room and stuck with numb‐ ing needles so my skin could be harvest‐ ed. then i was sewn up. i could feel the thread pulling the skin back together be‐ neath my eye. i walked from the doctor that day with bandages on my back and face. absolutely in shock from my scabies check up.

i went to the co-op #rst. i needed treats. everyone being so politically correct, people stared at the bandage saying hello not asking. next i went to the log store. thank god for rednecks. as we loaded logs into the back of my pickup he asked what the fuck happened to my face. i found it so so comforting. leif j lee leif j lee 4 L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann

thomas john gamble L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann 5

the page on which the photograph ap‐ me, my body taking on the lightness and pears. the darkness of the photograph, my body SARAH SENTILLES // taking on the body of the starving man, But then I see that one of my students my face and clothing becoming part of BE IN LOVE has covered the photograph with a green the image, becoming the screen onto Post It note. which it was projected.

For the #rst day of class, I assign, among in the journal, evidence of a brutal medi‐ And when I see that she has covered the I wasn't looking at the photograph I was other texts, a chapter called “Just Look‐ cal assessment. image, I see that I did not cover the im‐ talking about. I was looking at my stu‐ ing” from e Object Stares Back by age, that in fact I have done the opposite dents. And then my student started to James Elkins. All seeing is heated, Elkins Rectal examination revealed a normal of covering the image. I have scanned it, cry. She turned away from the screen, writes. ere is a force to looking, and prostate. asked my students to print it, turned it and when I saw her tears – just like when the force works in both directions: light into an electronic document that can be I saw her green Post-It note – I realized I pushes its way into your eyes; the eyes I turn the page. emailed and reproduced. I think of what was doing exactly what I was criticizing push their way into the world. Mark Danner writes about how at Abu the photographer of doing. I was using And there for me to see – for all of my Ghraib the digital camera and its in‐ the body of a dying man to teach my stu‐ Looking is violent, Elkins argues, and to students to see – is the photograph: Fig‐ escapable 'ash functioned as part of the dents something. make his point he tells a story. ure 1. torture – how it was a shame multiplier, the ultimate third party letting the pris‐ What do we ask bodies in pain to do for Hysterics were not the only people kept I look at the photograph for a long time. oner know that his humiliation would us? I ask this question in my classroom in the Parisian hospital La Salpetriere, I see things Elkins did not describe not stop when the torture stopped, but again and again, and the more I teach which used to be a gunpowder factory. about the image. e person in the pho‐ would continue every time someone about violent images the more I wonder ere were others locked inside – prosti‐ tograph is Black, greying hair cut close looked at the photographs. Now I am the what work they do. Why do I need a tutes, the mentally disabled, the crimi‐ to the head, shoulders rotated forward, shame multiplier. Now there are 19 pho‐ photograph of bodies blown apart to un‐ nally insane, madwomen – and in the arms hanging down, #ngers lightly tographs of this person in the classroom. derstand the damage missiles cause? 19th and early 20th century, the doctors touching the side of his legs just above Now there are 19 people who spent time Why do I need to see melted skin, bro‐ who worked at the hospital published an his knees, which are together, almost looking at this person, naked, alone, ex‐ ken bones, shattered skulls? Why do I academic journal. In it they wrote about touching, though his feet are apart. posed, because I asked them to, because need to see this man’s ribs about to break their patients’ appearance, which they ere appears to be a bracelet around his I required it. through, to see that he barely has the thought to be an external sign of an in‐ le ankle. strength to hold his body up from the ternal state. ey could understand neu‐ But not this one student. She has covered earth, from the ground, to reach out his rological pathologies by examining their Elkins also neglected to describe the him, her green post-it note a blanket, a arm to accept a tiny packet of hydration physical expressions, they thought. ey room. e #lth of the 'oor and the dark‐ veil, a mantle, a burial shroud – protect‐ salts, to see that he will die and that his had questions – Does hysteria give a per‐ ness spreading up the white wall – Is it ing the person from her gaze. Protecting death did not need to happen, that it was son a particular face? What happens to mud? Dirt? Blood? – remind me of other the person from me. avoidable, that there was something that someone who spends her entire life in rooms in other photographs I sometimes could have been done, that there was bed? What does it look like to have a bel‐ wish I’d never seen. She is a veteran. She fought in the #rst something I could have done? ly so fat it scrapes the 'oor? – and they Gulf War. Her hair is pink. Across the used the camera to get the answers they is is the violent side of seeing, Elkins #rst knuckle of each of her #ngers is tat‐ For years now I have been teaching my wanted, photographing the patients' ges‐ writes. e mere act of looking . . . turns tooed a letter so if she were to make a #st students about these kinds of images, tures, their poses, mannerisms, irritable a human being into a naked, shivering with each hand and then put them to‐ asking questions about these images, and signs, twitches. example of a medical condition. gether, her hands would spell a message: what has teaching about this material B E I N L O V E . done to me? What has curating slide Reading issues of the doctors’ journal, I take notes to prepare for class. e vio‐ show aer slide show of images of people Elkins came across a photograph of a eu‐ lent side of seeing, I write. I make a list is is not the #rst time this particular in pain done to me? nuch accompanying one of the articles. of everything Elkins compares looking student has taught me. She has taken He describes the photograph for the to. Looking is like hunting, like loving, classes with me before, and in one of at day, with the image of a dying man reader. e eunuch’s face is impassive or searching, possessing, using. those classes, I projected an image onto projected across my body, I con#rmed perhaps resigned, he writes. It is a tired the classroom wall that several of the au‐ my own lesson. I added his image to a face. e eyes are gently shut. I keep track of what he writes about how thors I assigned for class had discussed, PowerPoint presentation. I projected it seeing works. Seeing controls, James Nachtwey’s “Sudan, 1993,” a pho‐ onto my classroom wall. I felt nothing. He had once been manic-depressive, the objecti#es, denigrates. It creates pain. tograph of a man who is starving to doctors write, but recently had entered death, skeletal, every rib visible, every But my student cried. into a period of continuous calm. I keep reading the chapter – which I bone. have copied from a book in the school’s Consider this sentence, Elkins writes: Elkins does not say how the person be‐ library, which I have scanned for my stu‐ I’d assigned texts by several authors, each e observer looks at the object. It seems came a eunuch, whether it was by choice dents and turned into a PDF, which I of whom thought differently about this simple, even obvious, a given, but it or force, whether it was by birth or vio‐ have asked them to print out and bring image, and I wanted to use the photo‐ comes apart right away, because it is lence. At #rst, Elkins writes, the body to class – and when I am done reading, I graph as an opportunity for debate about built on the very simple but mistaken seems posed, as if the eunuch meant to don’t think about the photograph or the the ethical questions surrounding taking idea that the observer and the object are show off some feminine grace. chapter again until a few days later when pictures of people in pain. I had my back two different things. I teach it. to the image as I talked about the ques‐ e person in the photograph is 40 years tions the authors had raised – questions e beholder looks at the object, but the old – my age now as I write this – and Let’s turn to Elkins, I say. It is the start of about objecti#cation, about what it object changes the beholder, and there‐ habitually stoned on hashish. Elkins says the semester, the very #rst meeting of means to name the photograph aer a fore the beholder does not look at the the person in the photograph declared class. I ask students to work in groups to country rather than aer the person in object. he was going to marry a princess and identify Elkins’s main argument. I walk the picture, about racism, about whether raise a family. With the princess, he around the room. I listen to their con‐ the photograph aestheticizes suffering. Or think of this sentence: e soldier thought, he would have an orgasm and versations. I bring the class back togeth‐ kills the enemy. It sounds like a one-way an ejaculation. er for a discussion. I had my back to the image while I gesture, Elkins writes, but it is not be‐ talked, and I paced back and forth in cause the act of killing does not only Elkins insists the doctor’s notes are not Let’s talk about the photograph of the front of it, the light from the projector change the person who is killed. e act unsympathetic, but, he writes, there is, eunuch, I say, and my students turn to mounted on the ceiling washing over of killing changes the killer. 6 L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann

kelly mcgovern L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann 7

In e Body in Pain, Elaine Scarry puts out sound or possibility. It is only the it differently. Every weapon, she writes, MARS DEITZ // fear of violence, sickness and hunger that has two ends. // can interrupt this fantasy. I am afraid of THE EARLY WINTER irreversibility and drowned by potential‐ Sources: ity. I am low tonight. I am not at peace with being alive. I am not taking life for Elkins, James. e Object Stares Back: November 27th, 2013 an acute awareness of endless potentiali‐ granted as my point of origin, I feel ev‐ On the Nature of Seeing. San Diego: ty. In such a still, dark room #lled with ery thought, every action starting from Harcourt Brace, 1997. Today. Not much. ere are so many hunched men in immobile performances nothing. It is an assault on me to con‐ moments and emotions to write of barstool masculinity, I felt certain of template time. Oh, I am afraid it is all Scarry, Elaine. e Body in Pain: e through. I am full of withdrawals. I feel my old age. I became one of them. is from this terrible dream. I cannot be Making and Unmaking of the World. so much longing for the homes I have performance, which consists of behaving without it now, my certain death. I am New York: Oxford University Press, made in others. Now so far away. I am like a stone, staring like a stone stares, as already sentenced. 1985. fortunate to long so much. I feel a I was staring. For a moment into memo‐ stranger to the happinesses that have ry. ere are too many lives that have be‐ December 10th, 2013 been mine in the recent past. I miss R. longed to me. I don’t know how I can go SONGS FOR // Last night in my dream I was sentenced on without resigning to indifference in Tuesday. I slept deeply and woke up with to inde#nite detention in a penal colony. some way, embodying the gruff and me‐ some of the questions of my present e earth was bare, overgrazed acreage, chanical men in the shadows, distin‐ coming in to clarity. It is oppressive to • mogwai - packed hard by the footsteps of my in‐ guishable by their silhouettes against the analyze behavior. repelish mates. I was talking to S, who may or televisions angled down at them from • nine inch nails - may not have been a prisoner, and I the ceiling. ey stare at their beers, they December 14th, 2013 the becoming made some statement about the legal look up at the screen. • the melvins - system suggesting its illegitimacy, or I am on the Manhattan bridge inside of a joan of arc some gesture that transgressed a rule of December 9th, 2013 stalling Q train that vibrates as if it is go‐ • exhorder - the camp. At the moment of my utter‐ ing to start rolling backwards uncontrol‐ cadence of the dirge ance I knew precisely that I had been I have escaped New Orleans and re‐ lably. In a snowstorm over the East river, • - seen by the authorities and I would be turned to Brooklyn. Today was my #rst surrounded by condensation. Because I kathleen sentenced to death. An impasse immedi‐ day at work, a fairly productive day. e am sensitive the the very fact that I am • mr. bungle - ately rose between S and I. Between ev‐ days are occupied with the malaise of a alive I have been noticing more my desert search for techno allah erything outside of my body and I. My non-directional urban life, some condi‐ fortress of privilege and the circum‐ • godspeed you ! black emperor - death was imminent. I was going to die. tion of underemployment, looming debt, stances of my socialization. we dri like worried #re It cleared out my mind like a gunshot in and depression lending itself to greater • gospel - a #eld of birds. e future, where I have fatigue. Yes I am depressed. But aware, For example: If the library in my neigh‐ a golden dawn been living my life, was immediately tak‐ and not falling downward. Simply coast‐ borhood in Brooklyn were 'ooded or • mare - en from me. e death sentence fell on ing on this low, low place, faintly afraid burned down, it would be rebuilt.ink‐ they sent you me and I woke up from the dream. To‐ of a dismal future, a leover from my ing also of the architectural qualities of • khanate - day is the other side of the last day of my dream, which might set the tone of win‐ different places I have been. e wealth dead life. I am here alive, but the damning ter. If I allow the melancholy to work on of an imperialist legacy is imbricated in • lumbar - calamity of this oneiric moment will not me in some shallow, cliché way maybe I places I inhabit. I can read it by observ‐ day one li. I put my life in the hands of the can cause it to enrich a gloomy inspira‐ ing material concentrations. Marble. As‐ • blank grey canvas sky - world and am simply an object. Here, tion. A counterintuitive patience for life phalt. Brick. Limestone. Cement. e kites there. I am like a brick on the ground or due to an accursed understanding of the levels vary dramatically. I concentrate on • black eyes - a cardinal on an electric wire. My death constant threat of annihilation. Its Mon‐ the ground. Little cobblestones on Im‐ on the sacred side is real. I am still alone in the dream, as I day now. Yesterday I suffered a blank manuelkirchstraße. Crumbling cement • blue water white death - have told no-one. I called S and she hangover, a bleaching of the mind.When on North Roman. e street cleaning song for the greater jihad didn't pick up. R comes to New York, what will we do? I schedule over Flatbush Avenue. • chelsea wolfe - cannot help but think that this desert I sick  is week another woman was feel has cleared in me, contributing to Considering precarity and the strati#ca‐ • des ark - murdered, her body was found on Flori‐ my emptiness, is the emptiness of being tion of New York. M says our parents howard's hour of shower da Avenue. without her. I suspect and fear that I were the last generation of New Yorkers • enablers - have somehow lost the substance of my who could possibly afford to buy proper‐ rue girardon December 1st, 2013 solitude. How has this become a possi‐ ty in their own city. • drunk - bility? First, I fear that the trauma of the silkworm Today, Sunday, the #rst of December. I'll summer gutted my trust in my own exis‐ e affects I camou'age myself with. e • gibson bros - be leaving New Orleans soon and am tence, perception and strength. I have gestures and formations I repeat. e the man who loved couch dancing thankful for it. e night before last was had to attempt to rebuild my ability to ways in which I can navigate a given sit‐ • johnny thunders - long, we pushed it up to the edge, the follow my own thoughts. Secondly, I uation. e relationships I have access you can't put your arms around a sun was closing in on the darkness when have shared intimate space and created to, the people who will talk to me, show memory I went to sleep. Sleep became the sweet‐ quite an emotionally involved relation‐ me their lives, give me entrance into • pere ube - est thing. ship with every person I have dated now their homes. e insides of buildings, 30 seconds over tokyo for over one year, a year of incredible rooms, refrigerators, palms, glances, • black tambourine - Yesterday J and I spent the #rst half of travels and enormous projects. I have imaginations, mouths, bathrooms, beds. for ex-lovers only the day together, conversation was very continually reoriented myself toward resholds upon thresholds. Cascading • jobriath - easy. Friday aernoon I walked along the "the other" and other people (not always entryways. My social mobility. My visi‐ i'm a man Mississippi with K who is almost too the same) many times now across the bility. My facility. • otis redding - wonderful. Kind, pleasant and twenty-four cities and towns I have been i've got dreams to remember intelligent. We talked about the death in 2013. As a result I have reshaped my I feel tender. I am an amorous person • the raincoats - sentence. Later I went to Cosimo's and solitude repeatedly. I am concerned for and I want no promises. It was snowing fairy tale in the supermarket met C. She was stuck in traffic for almost its erosion. all day, but now in the heart of night the • thoughts of ionesco an hour while I waited stoically at the snow has turned to rainfall. Tomorrow upward, inward, and bar, feeling my own relationship to time, I fantasize about laying in bed, being the city will be lacquered with ice. // under a kind of exhaustion and over-fullness in completely alone, in a blank time with‐ 8 L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann

bella + luna L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann 9

binding jars Adopting children DOUG BAULOS // stairs and storms Pumpking soup and little monsters Sheltering caves and dark dieties First Book of Electricity Rainbow petaled prayer 'ag snatching Let this be a home. Correct postures yipping dogs Jaundice, accidents and aneurysms Alabama Shuffle Dirt roads beaten hard – moto deep A jar of wishbones Bed and bedding A crazy quilt a carnival of threads walking shroud of a man Rusty nails He who would have the fruit has to Old rock of ages Bat storms funneling demon children Subtle promises and a singing body climb the tree First aid relief whispering with glee whispering in bed Helluva helluva – old path of thorns Candelights and red walls – mosquito Stairs small teacups Laying A groom in trouble with 'ashing crowns badminton speaking four languages at My dreams wander – birds I can’t identi‐ Short night in a long corridor once fy I am laying here loving you e double life of tears Children guiding oxcarts with 'ashlights An alley to nowhere La distancia de las cosas – hoping you Who saw the Brute? Who named him? Exhumed corpses and bodies on bikes So men growing tomatoes in the dusk get better Born a misanthropic boy A 2 liter bottle of acid and eating pork Mapping the land through neighbor’s When you leave – these empty branches With second hand cures chops names in memoriam withering Meanings and omens with double mean‐ A hanging body cut down and the vil‐ White rose climbing Rounding corners ings lages lost the tree A meeting of parallel journeys I dream of fragrances fragrance – I’m Unraveling Limb, root and trunk Tea and cup rim falling again Dark bird 2 dogs buried in the back yard Blindman’s ballads An effigy Bug eating tooth-aches I like drawing and poems cause you can’t Horrosoas asesinatos And silver pagodas lie e song was a quick drink Be careful with cruel dogs or Tamarind Coffin boats and silk tears Inside them Fanning out M16 Lop lop revolving books and fresh sheets Matter collapses Green pea congee with baby squid and marie’s fox slip in wet fur A #rst love – a crushed #reman Irrational and extraordinary A yellow 'oating face banana rubbing slinking through the back wall Light can’t escape Elephants have calves – falling mountain Bamboo skeleton house towering a memory palace with known borders Eternal slumber and bone wreaths Old pagoda, concrete animal pagoda, old Tigre beer and 'ower steps your #res started Incomprehensible manuscripts market Fabric triangles droop ink and fresh pages Blueprints and the purple of dead blood Behind the old art school – music and Dusty elephant heart trumpet and rain and love always about to begin Tea meditations instruments umbrellas pears and egg noodles Bird leg posture 3 times mosque Hung over dogs and serpent fences a chair in light, a bay tree Back off faker near elephant temple Dip le dip right a titmouse and prayers. I’m so weary in my shins garden stained the sea of milk How much? Oh birds in the garden bathing in waters Ventilations masks cut into pieces for an elixir Gamelan cats screech A ghost in the attic A sharp pain #zzy stupors and wide awake apsaras Take me I’m liing my tongue I like leaving at night and looking back Holy spirit Only time will tell and if you die And eating winter melon see Skull heads It costs us less Knitting dusty steps lady e small reading lamp by your side of Illium and bones Aer 3 years of sleep Clean before I came here the bed warming. We were real newborns You have a beautiful nose body less My gossamer my organza sleepy scuba White sheet white hand pale shoulder I need the space and time in this choco‐ witch suit diving (is is pure map of childhood walks) late seed Weather and terrain Scary ghost hovering once more rice iced tea Apostles and salon collections Rain snow thunder water strong wind Big water and very good luck for you this is the motion of the tide Black eggs and mournings mountains cliffs Between a drizzle and a heavy rain Crater cage – whistle blowing with no Fruit shake and happy gold sun Buddha What about the Skull of the Undertaker? Fissures in the Irrational Nature of Love eye contact laugh stinky stupas and Flight Don’t point your feet at me Viscera ho! Dark upside down shadows Lips together – peaceful death Holes in the esophagus Incense In water a crocodile Lips apart - a hard violent end In the chest cavity Steps #lament On land a tiger beer Put my book of fortunes on your head We sewed up x-rays Broken glass 'oating Pinpoint the sometimes past and some‐ Between his teeth torn, ripped, hung Near wat lanka times future A pale slip dangled – a combed heart Beauty and the bar of half bloods Part of the book and surrender your ar‐ A primrose nodding string tattered White elephant and snake hair girl rows to the gale. telegraphed Sister come back and help me dig up Vocations for young men unit lace vegetables ere is a ghost in the tamarind tree in a #ligree of threads back Second hand cures spooled and creased Bird and stone He doesn’t have feet ings for boys to do with electricity orbit milestones I don’t eat rotten pears Put the rice bowl full by the door. // Ruts cord sooty combed Mountain maps of skulls this is a book Flowers of Campuchea Worn – out buzzer, bell, tingle Wheel of History Rubbed down dusty tea Crystal pistols and sutras SONGS FOR // Human marks lines grid Erased of circulatory system Are you ok? Everything? Abrade spores #ber ick house of concrete and leaves • a planet that eats planets - Scarred and stained rags and folds Fungus color and Bokor blood on kings road/in company of ghosts Cliffs tumble down divining rods Swimming rotundas and rusty puple • tolerance, AL - wrinkled knots – cracks and #ssures trumpeting 'owers the #rst forty years In the water – a barracuda strapped ladders Modern Buddha beats and shirtless • - Leather like birds antennae monks sultry exuding calm you already did Wading out with you through your past ribs, vessels ey wear smoke orange and cigarette • tim hecker - Weighted waters circling ties blood red in the fog I-III 10 L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann

Serial Experiments Lain begins with a Cyberpunk is an essentially transhuman TRAVIS NIKOLAI // string of suicides, all seemingly linked by genre. Narratives oen revolve around an online game that looks rather like characters who have interfaced so thor‐ VOLATILE MEMORY Minecra. One of these suicides has oughly with systems of arti#ce that their contacted Lain, our protagonist, via SMS humanity is cast into question. In the from beyond the grave, claiming that she case of Lain, this is part of a broader In the climactic scene of the second Many major titles center on characters is still alive but has opted to abandon her theme of self-actualization in young episode of the anime Serial Experiments precisely that age: the aforementioned body to live online with God. is un‐ adult fantasy. Other familiar examples Lain, the sheepish 14-year-old protago‐ Lain, Neon Genesis Evangelion, and derstandably prompts Lain to take a are Harry Potter, who must realize his nist summons her valor and announces Sailor Moon all being prime examples. great interest in computers, referred to magical heritage and master his powers, to a drugged-out, gun-toting, freshly here as Navis, and the internet, referred and the mutant X-Men who manifest minted mass murderer that “No matter In those days anime was still hard to to as the Wired. In doing so she falls into their own unique abilities in the onset of where you go, everyone's connected.” come by, but the places it was found al‐ a #lm noir of real world conspiracy theo‐ adolescence. In most anime this actual‐ is utterance prompts the shooter's im‐ luded to a world of hip sophistication lo‐ ries wherein she confronts her own sen‐ ization is accomplished by climbing into mediate suicide. cated just on the far side of high school. tient avatars and meets God. the belly of a skyscraper-sized, anthropo‐ At that age though, even the span of a morphic war machine and piloting it I sympathize. I really do. Hell, as is well few years was an interminable gauntlet In the world of Lain there are neither gi‐ into battle. is is perfectly logical to me established, is other people. My escape of bullying and draconian rites of pas‐ ant robots nor fan service. Characters because during puberty I desired noth‐ from other people when I was 14 was sage. Some of my most treasured memo‐ are rendered with general realism, but in ing so strongly as to be outside of my anime. Serial Experiments Lain came ries come from a dilapidated art-house many cases their eyes are set wide across own weak, awkward body, a body still out in 1998, which was the same year cinema where I saw both Akira and the face making them appear subtly rep‐ subject to the social controls of child‐ that Pokemon was #rst broadcast to Ghost in the Shell on the big screen, tilian or #sh-like. Frequent use of a #sh hood, and inside a body which could be American audiences; an event which which was precisely as mind-blowing as eye lens drives this eerie impression self assured in its power and agency. would eventually cement anime's main‐ it sounds. And somewhere out there is a home. Exterior shots are oen blown out What I #nd most compelling about cy‐ stream acceptance in the states. At the former employee of the Cottonwood by an oppressive sun and interiors are al‐ berpunk, however, is that the locus of time, however, it still felt very under‐ Mall branch of Blockbuster Video who ternately dark and moody or saccharine transcendence isn't found in something ground , very cool, especially to a subur‐ shepherded me through puberty with pastel. A quiet, pervasive psychedelia ris‐ as inaccessible as arcane magic, or metal ban kid raised on Disney and Warner only the sheer might of his/her picks. No es to occasional crescendos, mirroring leviathans, but within reach of the near‐ Brothers. It is my #rm belief that the age other location carried any animation the psychedelia of other cyberpunk est computer, or Navi, or Cyberdeck, or of 14 is in general a time of indelible that could be considered outside the works in a commentary on our own cur‐ what have you. e transcendent is not trauma if for no other reason than the mundane. Not Murray, not Sandy, not rent state of over saturated device psy‐ only within reach, but we are in fact al‐ pubescent body horror and its concomi‐ Highland, not West Valley. Clerk, your chosis: everywhere tiny light-shows, ready immersed in it. tant hormone-induced psychodrama name may be lost in time, but your shuffling tracks, prosthetic knowledge, that many of us spend the remaining deeds are not forgotten. Sharing is future shock, and collisions of personal When we #rst meet Lain she is com‐ years of our lives reenacting. As it turns caring, and that's my real point here. space. pletely inside herself. Her family is cold out, the anime canon and I agree on this. to her and to shield herself she dons a

evan isoline evan isoline L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann 11 head-to-toe set of bear jammies, as if hand, who urges her to complete her choosing to be a cartoon bear is an es‐ erasure from the real, and Arisu on the cape from the weight of being human. other, who through her persistent mem‐ is opening dyad of inner and outer ory of Lain grounds her in the real. In an world, fantasy and real self proves attempt to return to the real Lain under‐ prophetic. mines God and reveals him to be only a demiurge. To demonstrate his omnipo‐ In the days following the #rst of the sui‐ tence God metamorphoses into a physi‐ cides Lain is lured out to a dance club by cal body but goes the way of Tetsuo at her classmates, who claim to have en‐ the end of Akira. is ends in a hollow countered her doppelganger there on a victory, however, as God's death throws previous night. However, the version of obliterate the already haggard Arisu's re‐ Lain that they encountered was wanton maining sanity. Lain's solution to this is and assured. Lain #rst glimpses this oth‐ to neither ascend to full Wired goddess- er con#dent self, her avatar, with whom hood nor return to humanity, but to opt she desperately desires to commune, in for a hard reboot of the real, leaving her t h e a f o r e m e n t i o n e d c l i m a c t i c forever outside space and time as a new “everyone's connected”scene. e trau‐ tangent time line unfolds without her. matic experience of the shootings bonds Lain with one of her classmates, Arisu, Lain resolves her con'ict through as the pair are mutually disquieted by the forcibly rewriting traumatic memory, lack of effect the event had on the other which is, in a way, entirely possible. We girls present that night. Others begin convince ourselves to accept the proto‐ mentioning that they have encountered cols imposed on us—one way of being, the bizarro Lain online, prompting an one role, one point of view, one value of obsessive investigation into the Wired a binary—and we accept the terms of that distances Lain from Arisu. In pur‐ service without reading or questioning, suit of her higher self Lain isolates her‐ but these things are mutable. ey can self from a real friend. be hacked. What's more intriguing for me though, and I think no less cyber‐ What begins for Lain as an aptitude with punk, is the notion presented by both computers turns supernatural as she be‐ God and Lain, that “information func‐ gins receiving hallucinations from God. tions by always being in motion.” Lain's Lain's exploits attract the attention of isolation only fully manifests when she Tachibana Labs, a company vying for attempts to escape her avatars, which are control of Protocol 7, the next upgrade those versions of herself which represent evan isoline to the Wired designed for seamless in‐ other people's perceptions of her. By formation sharing between the Wired deleting others' memories of her she and the real. eir desire is to maintain ends the possibility of information ex‐ BRETT LEVINE // GETTIN' LOW these as separate spaces, fearing cata‐ change. If we fail to get outside of our‐ clysmic repercussions. is runs con‐ selves, our own interiority, we fail to be trary to God's plan to use Lain's powers known by others, thus fail to know our‐ Sometimes it isn’t just about “being” low. Now that we are saddled with Modern to bring about the next phase of human selves and fail to be. I’m writing this with something else en‐ Art and Popular Culture: Readings High evolution by networking the entire pop‐ tirely in my head. I wish it wasn’t there. I and Low it seems impossible to escape ulation of the world like neurons in a My fascination with anime and sci-# is used to DJ bar mitzvahs, and when I this simple dichotomy. We had already vast brain. When Tachibana's goons one of the things that drives me to think about Low, as much as I want to been given the idea of the dream world abduct and interrogate Lain it is revealed create. At #rst I was dazzled by the think about slowcore bands or David of mass culture by Walter Benjamin, and that Lain cannot remember signi#cant worlds other people made, worlds I Bowie albums or somewhere you perhaps had we simply substituted the portions of her past. ere is a striking wanted to lose myself in. I began to draw “swing” or some other esoteric examina‐ term “mass” for “low” we would not be pattern of memory problems that arises and tell stories so that I could have tion of psychologically altered states, that having this discussion. But somehow in cyberpunk. In Blade Runner and To‐ spaces all my own to retreat into. I hoped isn’t the #rst thing that comes to mind. that doesn’t work. tal Recall we encounter imposed, im‐ that I could use these tools to actualize You see, maybe three or so years ago I planted memories. In La Jetée and 12 myself to myself. is is a #ne and neces‐ was DJing a set in Atlanta, and I got the Low culture is only low, mass culture is Monkeys a man carries a genuine but sary opening act, but leaving things Low earworm. e problem is that the only mass, until someone #nds a way to ambiguous memory that he is forced to there stagnates the 'ow of information. I song isn’t even called Low. It’s actually mainstream it to monetize it, to market relive. And in Robocop a man becomes a failed to realize that the production of called Apple Bottom Jeans. It’s by T Pain, it. Once it becomes part of the culture cyborg, temporarily forgetting his hu‐ those things I loved were really a kind of who might be best known to the main‐ economy, it is no longer arch, much in man past. As with these stories, Lain conversation with the outside world—a stream hipster audience as the guy who the same way that Deep roat or Tom begs the consideration that manipulation conversation between creator and audi‐ got to be “On A Boat” with Andy Sam‐ of Finland became less marginalized and of memory is the #rst step in becoming ence, but also a conversation with all berg. But before that happened he sang more eroticized in precisely the moment transhuman, i.e., if she can forget what those ever involved in the act of making. this gem: “C’mon/Shawty had them ap‐ that Andy Warhol referenced the former she is then she can become something It took me a long time to #gure out that ple bottom jeans/boots with the fur/the or a mainstream museum showed the new. the way through is out, not in. // whole club was lookin’ at her/she hit the latter. It isn’t that either is in any way bet‐ 'oor/next thing you know/shawty got ter or worse, but somehow in that mo‐ Lain's lack of a clear past and an escalat‐ low low low low low low low low.” ment they have de#nitely become less ing series of confrontations with her in‐ SONGS FOR // peripheral, they have taken a step up creasingly insubordinate avatars causes Being low actually is an amazing state to from the ghetto of the low, a place that her to begin doubting her own realness. be in and an amazing position to occupy they have inhabited simply because the Lain becomes like a ghost. She hacks the • b. ames - particularly given the situation it takes in dominant paradigm has placed them protocol that divides the worlds and be‐ alyssa edwards: drop dead gorgeous contemporary culture. Public Enemy there. In a world in which hip-hop cul‐ gins deleting the memory of herself from • house of ladosha - asked “How low can you go?/Death row/ ture, or queer culture, or porn, or any people's minds. At the series climax, shoe . o . e . n . o featuring roko and fu‐ what a bummer…” other non-WASP, non-male, non-hetero Lain is caught between God on the one ture culture constructs a model of being, 12 L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann there is an “other” which is by necessity her? What we don’t know in that instant, the center, and by necessity it is not low. what happens in that moment, what JONATHAN ERIC GANN // It is the median, the middle. It is off the happens in that Lacanian “I is another” margin. moment, is that we don’t know if she “is” NOTES FROM IRA BEATTE'S low or is “low”. ere is no way to sepa‐ What’s even stranger here though is that rate her being from her location. So BOOK OF VISIONS ever since the distinctions between high there is also no way to know what that and low culture were made the idea of “low” really is. It could be a low that is low culture has been inverted to be high high. Or it could be a low that is really I heavy, like black syrup and chest setting culture. It is a simple inversion, one that low. It could be a low that comes from rising out of the mouth of an old stump [sic]. has occurred simply by its inversion. It is the fact that the whole club really is like a cork half twisted and forgotten feeling less like from j swi what happens in the instance of its de#‐ looking at her, or it could be the fact that counting red rings not in years but in and more like rotten apples, nition, and it happens by de#nition. It the whole club is “looking” at her, that in lives i sat upright and turned toward them happens in any instance of us and them, that moment she is either the subject or experiences, loves, not loves, gains, loss‐ reaching my arms out. and it happens instantaneously. It hap‐ the object of its gaze, that she either es, recollections it was too much. pens in part because centers oscillate, holds the power or the gaze or is subject endless red rings bleed red cords the 'ock took 'ight. and because low by de#nition only exists to its power. Perhaps the answer is un‐ binding us together and ever inward i watched them circle in reference to a midpoint around which knowable, and perhaps in this moment, but it's our own hands that hold us here counterclockwise, these de#nitions can be determined. she and we are low. Perhaps low like on the idea of a heaven, higher higher in endless gyres the dance 'oor. Perhaps low in energy, in hope a leaving behind of everything streaming sentences into the air Here’s the problem. Low culture is high. low in psyche, low in spirit, low in belief, the idea of a xxxxxx, with words i did not understand. Low culture is high octane, high low in faith, low in something. Or maybe equally stark and terrifying thought, high theory. Low culture is high we are all just looking, looking at the afraid of an eternity spent in an endless feeling more like j swi, camp, high value, high octane. Hell, low dance 'oor, looking at those apple bot‐ worship of something so mysterious and i bit my cheek...it tastes like mint culture is usually high. It is Kerouac high tom jeans, looking at someone getting somewhat distant the black beach on Benzedrine high. It is Bird on smack low, it is just that we don’t know what forever casting down our golden crowns the sound of a bell high. It is Ebeneezer Goode high. It is that low really means for anyone at all. // will we recognize each other? the house upside down Jesse high. It is arch, big money, cash the water smells like #re here. money, large, fat stacks high. It is focus from the mouth of an old stump group, advertising, trendspotting, fore‐ SONGS FOR // like a cork half twisted and expecting III casting, leading edge, marketspeak, ad‐ up to the #ne points of a set of branched vertorial high. Except in that moment it horns. we pried from his right hand thirty keys is too late, always already too late, last • beyondadoubt - to the sun, second late…low, but only because it 9inch heels featuring niyi II from the le a wooden crown. thinks it is. • sash so hard - today i woke on a beach of snow gimmie more the red sea at my feet. IV So let’s get back to Shawty. What does • double duchess - dozens of curious birds sat nearby. i'll trade my voice for a set of hands she think about those apple bottom deviant from where i lay their quiet mumbling i'll trade my health for understanding jeans? What about that fur? What about • light asylum - was a foreign chorus. i'll trade love for insight the fact that the whole club is looking at heart of dust i lay quite still for quite some time, i'll trade innocence for experience.

jonathan eric gann jonathan eric gann L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann 13

V VIII if only to pass a temporary darkness af‐ i stumble a few timid steps forward and relinquish your burdens. fecting to the le, intending to trace a wide we will make our homes in rotten bones (i've seen you magni#cent) perimeter arc around it. i hate it and VI we will sing what is not ours to sing your song is my song, our song is the mean to forget it, yet i cannot. spreading our stories written with ink from the same and as such your understanding is my #ngers across the smooth black... walking on my #ngertips it becomes freshly torn thorough and your senses keen... mint again harder when a head is forced (not so say and our hands wet in the truth of unfor‐ i'll ask you sitting with my feet tucked under, the that hands are not lovingly tied). each giving inspirations reach your #ngers inside my chest and house upside down, the roof pointing small step one more closer to what is "oh you! if only you could feel this" straight down. constant and necessary. today being dif‐ IX if only to brush the edge of a dry nest a dumb smile on my face and feeling like ferent brighter...each small step cradling and egg long since overdue a warm handshake... lighter...'oat into light...you stretched on violent authority and the things that if only to trace the lip of a cold, yawning a #nger to the waistline brings me back across the canvas of my mind...a smile make me me canyon whose walls brace steep stone to now. forget the beach i say, damn turns the corners up...upward turning chemical uncertainty b/w torrid ro‐ against the soest green underbelly chance and damn these circumstances. i gyres in an endless spire. they'll wonder mance in and through revolving doors if only to scrape the mirror's wet surface swear to god, given another night and a when i'm later. suspicions will abound i stand at the gate of my own salvation ever re'ecting, keeping simple truths be‐ clear head, let me #nd him waiting pa‐ and they'll grind endless rows of teeth. i and scratch hind it...fretting tiently under the stairs to strike a deal. // live to de'ate these expectations: walk half of me contained within something you see: on ATLAS: walk on black beach. i am no longer accessible i've seen me great in loving memory my own self contained world and noth‐ roots will dig too deep i've seen me whole and satis#ed and selected from the collected works of ing belongs to me alone. in lieu of a mes‐ spelling names i will never be able to i've seen my hands change the world Ira Beatte, currently being assembled sage and a bottle i'll throw myself in in‐ turn loose you say: into a complete anthology entitled 'In stead. banana leaves, mint, sun baked, entrenched "fates are made and fates are sealed" Defense of Suicide: Aer I Hit the Floor vivid, and a new de#nition of time. entangled but Before I Learned to Dance.' due out and troubling so in late 2015 VII wash it, wash me again sing! hands on hands on hands on the heel of sing your broken chords i'm content to sit and watch this slow the sun sing! white pattern creep and pulse along a subtle cues and colors of a #nal descent sing little one SONGS FOR // deeper blue current into brighter burning #res. sing though the sound be not sweet head in hands, draped across the cradle sing! of my #ngers (not heavy but concentrat‐ X sing now for the both of us. • heirs - ing) hunter -like a dog to its vomit sing! XI • mamas and papas- -a rope to a shorter rope to chance sing your broken chords dreamin' -you become what you've made if only to satisfy your own wanting ears a clear and bright beam cuts the top edge • trina - (i've seen you beautiful) of a small hill and illuminates a sharp my bitches i said i would die when i heard that song sing! corner. suddenly i'm reminded of just • ssion - again and i meant it. sing little one! how small i really am and how it seems clown sing though the sound be not sweet that most things are cyclical and #lled • mykkiblanco - with irony. just as it was before. a cube. wavvy its eastern and western sides large, shim‐ • iconoclast - mering. to the le, a strange calm (al‐ i like you less than apple pie most a righteousness, something holy). • built to spill - to the right a substantial and resonating randy described eternity fear (almost of death). i remember the • twelve hour turn - way the sun played against its smooth i too had potential surface, giving the illusion of being in • gregor samsa - constant motion. like it was breathing on see highs (but to all sides, not just in and out). a • fever ray - strange sensation here...something fa‐ concrete walls miliar... a radiating smile, black like the • shellac - sands of an ancient beach, warm, mov‐ prayer to god ing. a gentle breeze plays across my face • sunny day real estate and through eaves of mint. i remember bucket of chicken his smell and the kindest eyes re'ecting • headphones - the clear blue water of a paradise com‐ gas and matches plete. this smell and musical sound • waxahatchee - against a background so bright, so vivid. bathtub leaning back, with my feet tucked under, • chauchat - the world shis upside down. the point lights/garbage of our house straight down... •why? then a dull ache, like a jagged knife blade good friday hanging from my gut brings me back to • mt. eerie - this light and this hill. these corners. the wooly mammoths mighty absence things are different this time. nothing is • spiritualized - moving. without the sun, the cube ladies and gentlemen we are 'oating in doesn't breathe. sleep now. in the morn‐ space ing things will be different. sick for • a silver mt. zion - breakfast and i need to get up and walk. 13 angels standing guard 'round your the sun, as promised, reanimates the bed sides of this perfect shape. taking in • isis - jonathan eric gann breaths of salted air. my head spinning as holy tears 14 L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann

JOHN KNIGHT // ON INDIFFERENCE AND ART FIVE LISTS L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann 15

EVAN ISOLINE // ENDLESS NARCOTICA THANKS //

"In loco horroris et vastae solitudinis." bleaches, moisturizers, salves, balms and Johnny Atlas is a writer based out of the ese were letters inscribed on the stone lotions the exiled #nally succumbs and paci#c northwest village of Olympia, portal of a twelh-century refuge and falls to his knees. Solvents dilate the cap‐ Washington. He has attended Antioch, hospital amidst the ruins of the famed illaries in his nose, reminding him of the Evergreen, Sheffield Hallam, & Goddard. Dômerie (L'Hospice de Notre-Dame des ether that awaits. His lethargic eyes He makes work concerned with being. Pauvres) in the village of Aubrac, France. squint through a euphemistic haze of [email protected] Ensconced in a desolate landscape atop a pastel interiors. No one understands his volcanic and granitic plateau, along with whispered glossolalia. e sickly sweet Sarah Sentilles is a writer. She earned the austere Monts d'Aubrac leering in smell of opium makes him want to cry. degrees from Yale and Harvard and is the distance, the hospital, and its fore‐ As a refugee, his pain is his nationality, the author of three books, including boding portal were erected on the an‐ his loathsome body his 'ag. e pro#t of Breaking Up with God: A Love Story. She cient pilgrimage route to Santiago de his pursuit will bear no resemblance to studies images, violence, and the con‐ Compostela, Spain. In the town of Santi‐ the arti#cial paradises of science, reli‐ struction of otherness. She teaches at Pa‐ ago de Compostela is a marvelous cathe‐ gion, popular culture, nor any other ci# c Northwest College of Art. dral that stands over the tomb of St. elaborate distraction or consolation for www.sarahsentilles.com James, the #nal resting place of the body his pain. Not even romantic love. of one of the twelve apostles of Jesus Mars Dietz is an antidisciplinary artist Christ. Notably, one of three apostles Ultimately the pilgrim seeks trans#gura‐ based in Brooklyn, NY. Using perfor‐ who were chosen by Christ to witness tion. Trans#guration being the deliver‐ mance, writing and site speci#c installa‐ the Trans#guration. ance from his body, from the obsessions tion, her research-based work investi‐ of his body, and the pain that it has en‐ gates concepts of narrative historiogra‐ "IN A PLACE OF HORROR, AND OF dured. He seeks what the narcotic sub‐ phy, landscape perception, and the #‐ VAST WILDERNESS." stance was made in the image of. e nancialization of language. Mars holds a kingdom of painlessness. He seeks the BFA in Intermedia from the Paci#c As the weary pilgrim dragged its moment where human nature meets Northwest College of Art and an AA wretched body over a steaming road of what it is not, where temporality meets from Bard College. corpses this message served as a visceral eternity. He turns in a self for an-other, reminder of the object of his sacri#ce, and holds a mirror to the void. Douglas Baulos is an artist, poet and As‐ his living body, the toll for his entrance sistant professor at e University of Al‐ to Paradise. In this sense, the body of the abama at Birmingham. He received his pilgrim is a body that seeks presence SONGS FOR // MFA from the University of New Or‐ with God, or in other words, a body that leans. His drawings, poems, and books seeks presence with what is not a body. have been exhibited/published both na‐ His is the body of a wanderer, a wretched • far - tionally and internationally. His current traveler, an alien. It is necessarily incom‐ job's eyes poems and drawings are explorations plete, having no home, it is a body rele‐ • talvihorros - (visual) and meditations (poetry) center‐ gated to deserts and forests of pain. It blue cathedral ing on his ideas of spirituality, love, drags its somnolent 'esh towards the dy‐ • yaphet kotto - death, shelter, and hope. http://ma‐ ing light of a home, towards a vanishing circumstantial evidence chinewithnoname.blogspot.com point that will forever #ll the empty • low - space between each of its poor atoms murderer Travis Nikolai is a visual artist, and cu‐ with delicious anesthesia. e 'esh of • twilight sad - rator based in Portland, Oregon, where the pilgrim is embroidered with loneli‐ made to disappear he pursues an MFA in Visual Studies at ness and depression. It is punctuated • damien jurado - the Paci#c Northwest College of Art. His with scabs, lesions, and marbly irides‐ medicine work is concerned with the intersections cent bruises. It is mottled with sores, cal‐ • love life - of the occult and net-based subcultures. luses, insect bites. It is livid and blistered, be kind to me He holds a BFA in Painting and Drawing it is purulent. • shearwater - from the University of Utah, where he home life also acted as Dungeon Master. travis‐ Today, the pilgrim looks much different. • sharon van etten - nikolai.tumblr.com e mountains and churches are laden magic chords with tourists, reduced to amusement • brooks & dunn - Brett Levine is a writer based in Birm‐ rides, commodity. e de#nition of neon moon ingham, AL. He holds a Master of Arts ‘God’ 'uxuates; it is 'ux. We are discon‐ • wolves in the throne room - in Arts Administration from the Univer‐ nected from our mythologies because wanderer above the sea of fog sity of New S. Wales, Sydney, Australia. they are not our own. Nowadays, to be • daniel striped tiger - His writing explores contemporary art, physically healthy is to be devoutly reli‐ instruction piece critical theory, curating and pop culture. gious, and not the other way around. But • the need the pilgrim remains steadfast in his es‐ rim me isabella DUPLEX GALLERY sential horror for man-made sanctuary. • elton john - duplexcollective.com Until he is Home his sanctuary is horror i want love itself. Mankind’s chemical empathy will • set #re to 'ames - ARTISTS not do. Along his journey his labor is steal compass/drive north/disappear evanisoline.tumblr.com taunted, his misery scoffed at. Wheezing • nirvana - kellymcgovern.blogspot.com and retching through an effluvium of sappy leilee.tumblr.com perfumes, sanitizers, cleansers, soaps, • jesus lizard thomasjgamble.com shampoos, detergents, alcohols, iodines, monkey trick jonathanericgann.com 16 L O W // isoline mcgovern lee gamble gann

thomas john gamble