Metrosphere Magazine

“Carson liked sherry with her tea, brandy with her coffee and her purse with a large flask of whiskey. Between books, when she was neither famous nor monied, she claimed she existed almost exclusively on gin, cigarettes, and desperation for weeks at a time. During her most productive years she employed a round-the-clock drinking system: she’d start the day at her typewriter with a ritual glass a beer, a way of saying it was time to work, then steadily sip sherry as she typed. If it was cold and there was no wood for the stove, she’d turn up the heat with double shots of whiskey. She concluded her workday before dinner, which she primed with a martini. Then it was off to the parties, which meant more martinis, cognac, and, oftentimes, corn whiskey. Finally, she ended the day as it began, with a bedtime beer.

“Her recuperative abilities are the stuff of legend—she would rise the following morning, shake off her hangover like so much dust, down her morning beer, and get back to work.”

My piece for Mail Me Art is now for sale: http://www.mailmeart.com/product/victoria-maderna-original-mail-art/

All the proceeds from the sales of the originals are being donated to the following charities: Animal Aid, The Teenage Cancer Trust and WaterAid.

If you’re in London and want to see all the pieces in person, tomorrow is the opening for the first exhibition at the Framers Gallery.

There will also be a second exhibition in Hinckley that opens on the 9th of August at the Factoryroad Gallery.

Backwards and upside down in the twilight, that woman on all fours, her head dangling and suffused, her lean haunches, the area of darkness, the flanks and ass narrow and pale as a deer’s and those breasts hanging down toward the center of the earth like    plummets, when I swayed from side to side they swayed, it was so dark I couldn’t tell if they were gold or plum or rose. I cannot get over her moving toward him upside down in the mirror like a fly on the ceiling, her head hanging down and her tongue long and dark as an anteater’s going toward his body, she was so clearly an animal, she was an Indian creeping naked and noiseless, and when I looked at her she looked at me so directly, her eyes so dark, her stare said to me I belong here, this is mine, I am living out my true life on this earth.

Enon: A Novel by Paul Harding

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NPR 2013 Summer Reading Pick

NPR: Sneak Preview: 5 Books To Look Forward To This Summer

Enon follows Charlie Crosby in the year after his daughter’s sudden, tragic death.

Imagination is not an empirical or superadded power of consciousness, it is the whole of consciousness as it realizes its freedom.

Jean-Paul Sartre in The Imagination

Song: “Be Set Free” by Langhorne Slim