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Showing posts from August, 2008
Analecta has a booth in an art event,
Art Beat, in South Bend Downtown
on Thursday, September 4th from 4:00pm to 8:00pm!

I am thinking to advertise Analecta with fliers and past issues of Analecta
to showcase the writing community at IUSB. In addition, all artists can sell their arts and crafts. All writers can introduce their magazines, chapbooks, articles, websites, blogs, and etc.

I am looking for someone who can help me to set up the booth.

I do not know where the booth will be until the day of the event,
but if we meet sometime around 3:00pm, it should be enough time to set everything up.

So please email me back by Thursday if you can help me.
I will give my cellphone number so we can keep in touch.

Of course you are welcome to stop by!
Empty Suitcase:
Flash Drive, Baking Powder, and Limitation

My flash drive was suddenly lost all of its memory— my graduate research projects, poetry, official letters, and all of last year’s columns for the Preface— my creative works are gone, gone, gone in between some microchips and the black hole-mystery of a computer system. I screamed, “Come back to me!” like a crying woman who was under a messy blanket on a bed while her lover left through the door. It was the most selfish, cheesiest break-up I have ever done.

Surprisingly, I did not really freak out. I wandered around in my apartment a couple of times reciting, “this is a betrayal of modern technology,” cut my nails, and kicked a trashcan. The plastic trashcan was cracked and filled with baking powder—I threw old baking powder from the refrigerator away before I started writing this column. Believe or not, I was excited to write about my refrigerator and its odor problems— so my carpet wa…
The Empty Suitcase: Closety Experience

When I finish a painting, I frame my art, which I usually find at Goodwill and antique shops. I put on my yellow rubber gloves and place those dusty frames on my dining table and vacuum them first. I clean them with a bathroom cleaner with bleach for the glass surfaces and wax spray for the wooden frames. As a special treatment; perhaps, spiritual treatment, I put a little bit of salt on the frames. Because I have no idea where those frames come from— they may come from some grandma’s death bed; perhaps, from a murder case— I usually sanitize spiritually with salt. Salt is helpful to purify objects and human minds in Japanese culture. So I put a little bit salt on the frame and pray— thank you for accepting my art— then I put my art into the frame.

So the other day, I found nice frames from an antique shop— the frames were dusty like charcoal— so I hesitated carrying them into my apartment. When I used to live in school housing, I had an art room …
Hell Paper

Dante Inferno X T.S. Eliot The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock