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From The Desk of Kate Tarker: THIS VISIBLE MOMENT

Posted Thursday, June 16, 2016 - 1:40pm

June 14, 2016
Summer sun 

If you are reading this close to when I write it, you know that forty-nine people were just killed at Pulse nightclub in Orlando. Another fifty-three were injured. Everyone I know is grieving and in pain. The persons attacked were mostly young, and latinx; it was a gay nightclub and undoubtedly a hate crime. Recent news reports suggest the shooter might have been struggling to accept his own natural proclivities (he had previously attended Pulse with entirely different intentions). He was likely consumed by self-loathing and shame.

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From The Desk of Kate Tarker: IN PRAISE OF FEET

Posted Monday, June 6, 2016 - 12:55pm

June 2, 2016
Pale sun

“Hungarian folkdance is very sexy and dangerous,” says Blanka.

I have been thinking about feet lately.

Now I am observing Csaba Horvath’s feet. He has launched right into the dance steps, without preamble. He calls it “a kind of tap dance.” It goes: One and two and three three three. Tap and tap and foot hits calf.

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From The Desk of Kate Tarker: THE FAMILY IS JUST A METAPHOR

Posted Tuesday, May 24, 2016 - 11:31am

May 22, 2016
Mostly recovered from bronchitis.
Weather: rain, still rain. I am so tired of the rain. 

I thought this yesterday, while lying in bed.

 

SHEPHERDESS
(plucking apart a flower)

He loves me
He loves me not
He loves me
He loves me not

MESSENGER
Girl!

SHEPHERDESS
What?

MESSENGER
I walk by here everyday
And find you sitting on this rock
Beheading the hollyhocks.
Who has captured your heart so?

SHEPHERDESS
God, sir.
I just want to know
If He has forsaken me.

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From The Desk of Kate Tarker: BDSM OR COMMERCE: WHICH IS A BETTER MODEL FOR ART?

Posted Monday, May 9, 2016 - 4:22pm

Wednesday, May 4th

Dear Fellow Victorians,

Yesterday at Happy Laundromat, coming out of the rain and into a conversation with my beau, I was blasted by an extraordinary gust of lover’s fear. My hands were shaking. My heart was a drunken bee. I worked hard to appear: fine. To anyone not wielding the microscope of intimacy, I appeared: fine. But if you peered at my innards, you would know that in that little moment, I was a terrible opera.

Beware the enormity of love.

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From The Desk of Kate Tarker: ON MICE AND DRAGONS

Posted Monday, April 25, 2016 - 12:55pm

April 5

Taking the train down from NYC, I note:

Gray day.

Gray New Jersey.

Crossing into Philly, there are rowers on the river.

I think of Thomas Eakins -

… and I’m reminded how inspiring it feels, every time, to leave a routine. 

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