Corn Field, Ercourt, France – Tessa Brinckman This summer I spent a two week residency at Centre Pompadour, a neo-feministe haven, where I wrote the first nine minutes of music, Box | Grown Men Sing. Endless hours of being buried in loops of electronics and bass flute necessitated walks around the farmlands in this part […]
Politics
Fly Your Corncob Through The Clouds
I was thinking a lot about science fiction while working in New Zealand last September and October. When I was very young, I would bike home furiously from school (barefoot even in winter because I liked it that way), and read for hours. I fell in love with science fiction, and have never forgotten a […]
When Words are Woggins
The US is both distant and omnipresent, as I write from Paris (from a poetry slam, pictured above) in last-minute preparation for my concert tomorrow. Immersed in words and music, I’m often lost for words, literally between French and English. They are like woggins, wending their way through various states of (non)recognition and (un)meaning. Losing your […]
