looking=disappearance=amnesia=whistling

I've probably written about this to some of you/maybe even on here: I'm interested in deploying Kate Zambreno's notion of the paragraph (as a kind of window) as a portal into the eerie (I did read the Fisher book but am still thinking).

I guess that's kind of what I'm writing about right now: in something I have been calling, in my own brain, Nudie.

In my Critical Writing for Creative Writers class, we have been moving through Ordinary Notes, and on Tuesday, Meg (Peripety and/or Tronies (peripetyandortronies.blogspot.com)) visited our class to read her work and talk. She had amazing things to say about Rosetti's (perhaps tacky/excessive!) impulse to curate his paintings with his poems.

And we're thinking of acts of LOOKING. And we're thinking about critical postures and things Meg said about voice and font and description and immersion. 

(And just this week I have had to purchase some dollar store reading glasses to look at some newly-tiny-to-my-eyes text.)

And I want to bring this all, also, into listening (maybe Deep Listening/maybe Soundwalking/maybe Josephine Foster's newish album).

Phil used to have a plan to make a mix tape of songs that contain whistling. I love this idea.

And then I saw a review of this whistling musician's album, and she's quite delightful:

And the youtube comments led me to this:

Fisher writes about a story about whistling and about amnesia as an arm of the eerie.

I want whistling as forgetting.