After years and states and books and etc I have made the jump to a new website, which I have named after myself because I’ve heard that’s the rage.
This blog will continue at www.laurakochman.com/blog and you can keep up with all things The Bone and the Body at www.laurakochman.com/the-bone-and-the-body. Once I figure out how redirects work, I will set one up and you’ll go right over to the new blog, so give this one a hug while you can. All of the posts here have been migrated over there, so you’ll still be able to read everything all the time, but you know. If you’re sentimental like me, even this web space is a place, and you know how I feel about places I have called home.
Love you, WordPress.
The thing I have been sitting on:
I started reading an epistemology text and now I am just sitting around thinking about indirect realism and how one’s own body is an external world.
The last woman left had to birth herself through the circle of her own arms.
– my journal
Sometimes “I” is supposed to hold what is not there until it is. Then what is comes apart the closer you are to it.
This makes the first person a symbol for something.
The pronoun barely holding the person together.
– Claudia Rankine, Citizen
Poems from The Bone and the Body appeared in Tarpaulin Sky Magazine today. I am pretty happy about it (is an understatement).
I’ve been focused on Doors of New Jersey for the past year, so it’s nice to return to the rhythm of these prose poems. This voice and these beachscapes still matter, still echo.