Kat Finch

if you find bones in the forest, sit a bit and listen. they are old and have some good stories to tell. maybe they’ll teach you a spell or two, or explain where the water on our planet came from.

“Since childhood, I’ve been faithful to monsters. I have been saved and absolved by them, because monsters, I believe, are patron saints of our blissful imperfection, and they allow and embody the possibility of failing”

“The last strange thing I read was a line by the Slovene poet Tomaz Salamun: “The rise of the zebra hurts the zebra.” It’s a great line. I’m not even sure what he means by it, really. But the line camped out in my head for a while, and then suddenly I was reading a newspaper article about “the rise of democracy”–an ordinary enough phrase–and I thought, The rise of democracy hurts democracy. True or not, it was a strange little idea, and it was Salamun who had screwed in the light bulb. The strange illuminates the ordinary (…)”

In darkness

“A husband and wife climbed to the roof of their house, and each at the extremes of the ridge stood facing the other the while that the clouds took to form and reform. The husband said, shall we do backward dives, and into windows floating come kissing in a central room? I am standing on the bottom of an overturned boat, said the wife. The husband said, shall I somersault along the ridge of the roof and up your legs and through your dress out of the neck of your dress to kiss you? I am a roof statue on a temple in an archaeologist’s dream, said the wife. The husband said, let us go down now and do what it is to make another come into the world. Look, said the wife, the eternal clouds.”

I used to think it could be solved this way: like people gathering in the station at midnight for the last bus that will not come, at first just a few, then more and more. That was a chance to be close to one another, to change everything, together to start a new world.