Monthly Archives: December 2014

“Explosions and Collapses” by W.T. Paterson

It wasn’t until the third day that they began to appear; the women in the sky.  They would watch us as we, from the ground, struggled to stay alive.  Our ship had crashed on an uncharted and uninhabited planet, or so we thought.

These women were as large and elegant as the clouds, transparent and graceful.  We were not afraid, for they were not here to harm us.  As to who they were, some speculated they were angels while others imagined they were apparitions and hallucinations.  But if all of us saw them, how could they not be real?  Perhaps they were all that was left from a civilization that has long since vanished, or perhaps they were here to guide us into the places we have always feared to go.

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“Race to the Inevitable” by Jen Gerry, with artwork by Damien Olsen

damien olson
We drown in your omnipresence, yet on and on you go.
Despite all efforts, and not subject to change, your internal rhythm drives only forward.
For we are slaves to it, and we are lost to you.
Finding ourselves.
Only for a moment, but long enough to realize that which we are.
We find ourselves again, only this time older. Where are we now? Who are we now?
Accelerate. Assess.
Over and over we do this.
Leaving behind artifacts to measure the distribution of life’s events.
The last of these items…our shell.
Hollow and unique in every attribute, yet quantifiably measurable in its length of existence.
We once filled the space inside of these vessels.
If untouched,  the vessels themselves would continue to fill space.
Each physical quantity begins to decay at its own half-life, and over time we become reduced, filling no space…nothing.

This has been “Race to the Inevitable” by Jen Gerry, with accompanying artwork by Damien Olson, the second installment in our Lost in Time series.

Jennifer Gerry is a local art maker in the Inland Empire. While pursuing an MS in pure/theoretical mathematics, she is the cofounder and acting director/choreographer for Mechanism Dance Theater, which is a collective movement project based in Pomona, California. Her work has been shown in a variety of local and regional venues from formal theaters to alternative performances spaces such as art galleries. As an apprentice with artistic director, dance professional and educator Gayle Fekete, Jennifer approaches dance-making in a multimodal way. Collaborations and cross-discipline connections have a tendency to keep things interesting and experimental.

On writting; the written word can be a consequence of the analytic and reflective mind, and the process has value which pertains to all mediums of art.

https://www.facebook.com/mechanismdancetheatre

https://www.youtube.com/jengerrydance

Damien Olsen ( 1961 ) 

NY based Multimedia Artist
An undergraduate student of Psychology.
Started his art career selling drawings and paintings in elementary school.
Studied Photography and worked as a graphic Journalist and advertising photographer .
Trained dance technics, martial arts, studied music composition with Raoul Bjorkenheim.

Every area of his work is inspired and driven by natural history, esoteric teachings and urban exploration.
His vast musical body of work focuses on the electronic music genres of Ambient, Post Dance, Cinematic, Acid/Psychedelic; Cocktail Music, Chillout, Trip Hop,
with a notorious jazz, Folk and Musique Concrète influence.

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“3am, Here, Again” by Kiernan Norman

The Insomniac Propaganist is pleased to announce the next installment of our Sleepless Stories series. Edition four, “Lost in Time”, explores the several ways in which one might become lost, be it physically, cerebrally, or something in between. Yet time, the consistent drummer, marches on, beating out the minutes and hours that mark our passage through life. What then, would become of a person who got lost in time itself?

Below, please find “3am, Here, Again”, an evocative and gritty piece of prose by Kiernan Norman, the first offering from our “Lost in Time” series.


I try to live Here. Here is humid-sticky-underground-dance-hall hot. I’m caught tight in a mess of limbs- bodies stretch and sway from this to Eden. I have never been more lonely. Together we inhale metallic Old Spice. Together we exhale stale tap water hymns. I am breathing all alone. Continue reading

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