Mirror and Reflection and Lyra

I began this post this on 16 July 2020, and in the time since, have thought about my ambivalence and the extent to which my writing on this theme is obfuscated. It lives in the margins. I wore a metal-boned corset to write, black lace. And heels – Pleasers, 7-inch, shiny leather. I never thought…

Poetry of desire: Turbulence | Thuy On

I ’ve quoted Nietzsche before: “Of all that is written, I love only what a person has written with [their] blood.” Writers, artists and poets, we bleed our words. We can’t not. Nearly two years ago I fell into online discussion with Thuy On about the pitfalls of courtship in our age. On my side,…

Update: Saint Petersburg, Self, S*x

It has been too long but in this time, I have been again to Saint Petersburg. I hoped, rather optimistically, to edit Birch in-situ, but instead spent time finding new ways of experiencing the city that informed most of my writing. I remember a moment of panic on the Sadovaya canal, the first morning I…

A new world: The Dangerous Bride | Lee Kofman

It is a glorious, frightening, changing time. I’ve found myself seeking out words to describe the sensuous, the sinewy, the indelibly physical. I returned to the eroticism of Anaïs Nin – that complex, tumultuous, passionate woman I discovered in my teens – and in the process, was directed by Walter Mason to The Dangerous Bride…