Category Archives: Sleepless Stories

“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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Excerpt from Marcin Zarzeczny’s “Jobless Actor Confessions: A Practical Comedy for One Actor, Preferably Unemployed”

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A PHONE CALL FROM THE AGENCY

You know what I think? I think that if an agent from a pretty good agency happened to be here now, I might be getting a phone call sometime soon. A few years ago, it really happened to me. Continue reading

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“Mourning Day” by Aleksandra Djordjevic

She tells me,

“last night I dreamt my best friend died.”

Every day,

the getting up,

the (smallish) routine,

the idea that a single heart can be lost

haunts me with intense sincerity.

I tell her,

“we are all hearts

birds

beating to the sound of Creation’s innate sorrow.”

So I pick up the shards of her heart,

sew them together,

make Valentines.

I call them

my own.

Best friend, I loved you as much as a heart could allow.

Best friend,
I was…

Your universe cut up and sewn back together again.


Aleksandra Djordjevic was born in Kingston, PA, and has attended the University of Scranton, PA, as well as Wilkes University. She has been published in wordgathering.com, as well as in the short story anthology, The Smartest Kid in the Bronx. Ms. Djordjevic lives in Clarks Summit, PA.

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“Hitler the Dating Meister” by Nick Johnson

Sophia Paulson was a fantastic performer. Her body was sculpted and toned by hours spent with physical trainers, her wardrobe was the latest to grace the pages of the fashion industry’s most recognizable trend setting publications. She adorned her near flawless oval face with thin wire frame glasses that added a subtle complimenting component of intellectualism to her sex appeal. She was a young upstart. She had gone to the best schools, had met the right people, and at the relatively young age of 32 had established herself as a respectable practitioner in the field of psychology.

There were tumultuous undercurrents of stress running beneath the well crafted facade however. She had been able to hide them most of her life from just about everyone she knew, everyone except her fiancé. Her engagement, once a countdown to the day she would finally have the final piece of her perfect life, had now become an indefinite and agonizing period. In her attempts to expedite the process she had accomplished just the opposite, and driven him away. Now things appeared more uncertain than ever, and the always cool and collected Sophia had finally shown her vulnerabilities and insecurities. She was aware of just how attractive such qualities made a person appear. Unfortunately it had ran into a vicious cycle. Every time she called or texted she was sure she had just the right thing to say to make this all go away, but afterwards she always walked away with the feeling she had made things worse. Continue reading

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Sleepless Stories: The Work of Rachel O’Donnell

SwingingSwinging, 30″ by 48″, acrylic & oil sticks on canvas, 2014

Born in Dallas, Texas, Rachel O’Donnell is an artist based out of the Brooklyn, New York area. With her BFA in Fine Art from Pratt Institute, she has spent the last five years pursuing an art career on the east coast. She has studied abroad and completed courses at Parsons Paris as well as London College of Fashion. Her work has been featured in art galleries, such as, The Painting Center, Westbeth Gallery, Greenpoint Gallery, and in the famed Seagram Building for a Gagosian Gallery sponsored show. She has also been published online by Vice Magazine and featured in the New York Times reviewed Bushwick Open Studios twice. Painting primarily portraits, Rachel O’Donnell’s work is known for its intriguing use of colors and expressionist qualities. Working primarily with acrylic paint and oil sticks, Rachel creates her works at her studio located in Bushwick, Brooklyn.
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“The Fat Purple Cat” by Stephen Unger

Along a very small street is a small cafe nestled in the southwest corner of Paris.: Le Bougie. It’s where the sun had casted its warmth on the few flowers that make their home in the flower pots and vases along the widow sill.

The smell of roasted coffee and freshly baked croissants always attracted the artists and writers seeking early morning inspiration.

One such artist was Dameon Ricard who spent the long nights contemplating his next painting. Most of his works adorned the walls of the little cafe. He preferred to keep his work there at no charge. His hands where soiled with a variety of paint stains.

“I wash my hands,” he’d say. “Although not very thorough.”

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“perception is anything” by Peter Beda

I.

K. is a lonely boy
doesn’t see too many people
always in his room
smoking weed, playing poker

he doesn’t remember
where he puts things

he barely leaves the house
works hard and saves money
talks a lot, most of it imaginary
troubles ahead

in the outside world
a solitary child is waiting
for Big Brother to come home Continue reading

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