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ART OF MEMORY by Woody Vasulka

review by Diane Ward

ICARUS FLICKED
for Woody Vasulka's Art of Memory,

Distributed: Electronic Arts Intermix, 1987.

non-aligned body
vision within an
other entry into
an other
biology/body
forced evaporation
of our
metaphysical into
an other
omnipotent gist
deprived us of
memory with -- con-
temporary

behind
eyes/curtains/
scenes of past or
all alliance of
dread 'n memory
took up our
duties, concluded
all cute, our
necessary tools

as we capitalize --
lapse and destroy
one quick palm
movement creates
columns -- visitors
from our blue
vault

to comply is to
mock to mock to
remember down from
our labyrinth, our
barbarous ticking
wings

slight event
slight harm
perforates the
terror of
potentiality
rooted, ground
down, our heads
back and staring
in decay toward an
unresponsive,
pallid spot

"most people were
silent" what are
we, if not wieldy?
vigor repressed
toward clap . . .
within our sphere
of fearful light,
lashed streak of
memory, economy,
across our pacific
sea

 
 






Oppenheim wanders,
the air waves,
used . . .
suddenly we hung
in a vise, a kind,
colossal cage
whose bars
imprisoned us --
pleasure
simulations

a 'should' shifts,
the earth shrugs
but could not bear
the pen, we
collared pictures
far below

and for collective
wreckage: it means
it our point, our
angle between our
reflection and our
rays, that was us.
Our detonation
digested our
brink, our eyes

a cross-cutting of
memory / fantasy
used for
fluctuation of the
flesh we live
here, attractive
caves, far from
our sphere

a transcontinental
voracity and sweat
. . . one in one
ear / one out the
other, sun rising,
not quite the
center, and
sinking in both of
them, in our time

invited to forgive
and
simultaneously
accept
responsibility
just turn our
head, time slips
by that fast now

a multilateral
homesickness whose
soul focus suck
breathe suck one
simply imagines
peering through
our own skin, AT
ALL EVENTS: no
thicknesses.

. . one plumbs
protection, us
from nothing
from nothing
our fixed look