m15o, Megan Marz, James Bridle and the mourning of a fruit
I only noticed autumn when the peaches disappeared from our weekly farmer’s market. It made me sad. I lived in eternal summer, with blue sky, short sleeves, and iced coffee. The gradient shift of seasons, from faded-green to orange, happened in my summer haze. I missed it until peaches became persimmons.
Peaches were our daily companions this summer. They appeared in salads, desserts, and breakfasts. One evening, I did an emergency run to the supermarket to buy peaches because it was a summer ritual to eat them on our balcony while watching the sunset.
For how long is it okay to feel the loss of a fruit? I yearned for three weeks. I still miss them, but it eases the pain that the persimmons are ripe, and the early mandarins are the tastiest I had since those we picked in Japan, back when we first knew Uno was on his way.
Qwerty Tiles is a type game with sound effects.
Gift me a word is calling for submissions.
Light for L appears to be a website gift.
I’m continuing our ongoing conversation about ways to publish online. In this post, m15o outlines two formats for expressing and sharing thoughts: the journal rhymes with logging and blogging with… blogging. What grows from the practice is a personal wiki and an entire universe supported by hyperlinks. Try to click on Neon Kiosk, continue to Nightfall City, and discover the poetic classifieds. The medium is the message, and handwritten HTML feels like stepping backward into the future with the eyes fixed on the past.
While some people might prefer to only write a blog, and others to only write a journal, I don't think both are mutually exclusive, given how different they are in nature. — m15o
I rarely include links to large publishers. Firstly, I prefer to provide oxygen to the understory of online publishing than add drops to the ocean of the giants. Secondly, their essays seem to be different copy-paste stories about how boring/bad/dangerous the internet is. Hence, my heart skipped a beat when Megan Marz appeared with a love letter to online writing in Longreads.
How should a critic distinguish “published,” in the sense of technically visible, from “published” in the traditional sense of public? At what point in a work’s lifespan should it be written about? And what aesthetic criteria apply? Blogs are to novels as improv is to sketch or song lyrics are to poetry. They can reach and even surpass the standard set by their finer cousin, but they should not necessarily be held to it. — Megan Marz
“What am I to the mountain?” wonders James Bridle in this video essay about a low-tech overnight hike to a local mountain in Aegina, Greece. The static shots combined with the self-reflective voice-over resemble an old-school slideshow, and the calm imagery and the intense background noise of crickets (and frogs?) make it for seven perfect minutes. You need to request access to watch it. Ps. I'm a big fan of James.