aliza’s quotes i emailed myself last night.

(rgr-pop)

carolee schneemann, up to and including her limits, 1976 

i don’t know how anyone could come up with a title this good. feminist legacies. 

i got the weirdness and the cockiness

but i still need the decadence, and i’m not talking about eating a candy bar in bed at 2 AM. 

babybirch:

perpetualpresent:

“For us, eating and being eaten belong to the terrible secret of love. We love only the person we can eat. The person we hate we ‘can’t swallow.’ That one makes us vomit. Even our friends are inedible. If we were asked to dig into our friend’s flesh we would be disgusted. The person we love we dream only of eating. That is, we slide down that razor’s edge of ambivalence. The story of torment itself is a very beautiful one. Because loving is wanting and being able to eat up and yet to stop at the boundary. And there, at the tiniest beat between springing and stopping, in rushes fear. The spring is already in mid-air. The heart stops. The heart takes off again. Everything in love is oriented towards this absorption. At the same time real love is a don’t-touch, yet still an almost-touching. Tact itself: a phantom touching. Eat me up, my love, or else I’m going to eat you up. Fear of eating, fear of the edible, fear on the part of the one of them who feels loved, desired, who wants to be loved, desired, who desires to be desired, who knows there is no greater proof of love than the other’s appetite, who is dying to be eaten up, who says or doesn’t say, but who signifies: I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow. And yet manage it so as to keep me alive. But I often turn about or compromise, because I know that you won’t eat me up, in the end, and I urge you: bite me. Sign my death with your teeth.”

—

The Love of the Wolf // Hélène Cixous

i was going to reblog this anyway and then i got to the last two lines. 

elanormcinerney:

mail (Taken with instagram)

this is exactly what i need in my life right now. saw it on tumblr, bought it, going to sleep. 

redboldface:

Hannah Wilke: A Retrospective
University of Missouri Press, 1989.
“To exist instead of being an existentialist, to make objects instead of being one.”
$400

i don’t know why it never occurred to me that this is a book that one could buy. there’s one for $225 on amazon and a signed first edition that is $1350. oh, well.  

(hifu)

hannah wilke, from intra-venus triptych (“marilyn monroe”), 1992-93 

sic-semper:

wherestheres:

i feel like i might re-dedicate my blog 2 pics of girls throwing up because marx sed there could be no revolution w/o feminine upheaval but i don’t know and i feel like it’s been done so i’m really confused i wish i had a blog mentor to ask 

I forgot I had this blog!

I still think this joke about feminine upheaval is really good, fight me.

i don’t even know because we haven’t started our marx reading group yet but i hope every meeting is as funny as this joke. or opens with vomiting or something. (except i could barely type that so i definitely can’t do it.) 

well, did you?

the last time i dated for real was in 2001 or maybe 2000 and i have no idea what you guys are doing

tonight my friend’s boyfriend told his other friend that she needed to take the fact that she has IBS off her okc profile and she was totally defiant and, like, “guys have messaged me because of that” and i was like “show me one” (she did) and then i was like “i can’t even say the words ‘IBS’” and now i’m typing those words and it’s so gross, but it’s so funny, and the fact that anyone would use IBS (now i can’t stop typing it) as bait is the actual most amazing thing i’ve ever heard, i’ve been laughing for over an hour. what?! i only understand highly aestheticized abjection or none at all. also that reminds me that this is one of my favorite pieces of criticism i’ve read, ever, this is exactly what criticism should be, i think i cited it in one of my area exams.