Here’s some work I’ve published
or I am about to publish:
“24 hr news cycle”
Buddhist Poetry Review, Issue 7
“New Jewish Icons”
Paper presentation, February 2012
“A Guide To An Exhibitionist”
Multimedia Performance, May 7, 2011
“Those Who Come From Circumstance”
Story, Night Train, online journal
An excerpt from The Analysand
Dr. Klinddor is writing his memoirs in an anonymous, low-slung building among a complex of buildings, on a leafy suburban street in Tualatin, Oregon. In his study, along with the other art, is a woodblock print showing Vienna as a medieval, walled city. It is an aerial view. No one was flying back then (except in dreams I guess) but the outline is thick and hopeful; a childlike best guess at what a city would look like viewed from above. The wavy lines indicate ploughed fields, all the way to the end of the known world that, in art, is signified by the frame. In classic psychoanalytic dream analysis, women are represented by a walled city. I think women are a walled city.
Daughters are the borderless town.
Here are my free associations to the print. First, when I was an art student a student made a woodblock about another student that caused a shitload of problems. Next, that Vienna woodblock is hung next to a flattering, gold mirror that makes me wonder if a mirror was the first print. Last, I wish I could fly away because I am spending far too much time in Tualatin, Oregon.
And by free I mean, take ‘em.
Dr. K (everyone calls him that) has excellent posture, a full head of white hair, a noble roman nose once broken by a beer stein, and my mother, Barb Messinger. He favors soft loafers and white button down shirts and has the constantly hovering smile of a man who is used to being watched.
You reach Dr. K’s study by walking down a carpeted ramp, lined with wheelchairs, open a modern version of French glass doors, and step into another century. That’s because, despite the old age homes’ firm policy (which no one calls an “old age home” anymore my daughter Abisha says, and the whole idea is weird), he was allowed to bring his stuff, a mansion’s worth, crammed into three mauve rooms. Dr. K does whatever he wants in Tualatin B’nai Israel Assisted Living. He is magnetically attractive to a certain kind of ignored woman. Half the night staff is in love with him.