Kathryn CARTER @_kathryncarter
In her essay 'The Laugh of the Medusa', French feminist critic Hélène Cixous writes: 'Her libido is cosmic, just as her unconscious is worldwide. Her writing can only keep going, without ever inscribing or discerning contours, daring to make these vertiginous crossings of the other(s) ephemeral and passionate sojourns in him, her, them, whom she inhabits long enough to look at from the point closest to their unconscious from the moment they awaken, to love them at the point closest to their drives; and then further, impregnated through and through with these brief, identificatory embraces, she goes and passes into infinity'. As provocative today as it was when first published in 1975, Cixous's essay opens with an exhortation for women “to write herself” so as to know herself more deeply and bring more women to writing—from which they have been driven away as violently as from their bodies. Decades later, it feels as though persuasions such as these are as imperative as ever, not only for women but for all who seek to reconnect with their core through acts of artistic creation. 'Censor the body and you censor breath and speech at the same time', Cixous once taught me, 'Write yourself. Your body must be heard.' The more I write, the more I learn to listen to, and honour, what I came here to say. My latest poetry is now live at The Haiku Times, published alongside illustrations by Juan Barquero. Defined by a poetic sensibility, the French artist's pieces suspend parts of the human condition that might otherwise feel burdensome or abhorrent, allowing us to examine them with both intimacy and distance. To explore the poetic collaboration, follow the link in bio. Heartfelt thanks to you, @two_edged, for allowing me to feature your raw and honest art.
'She alone dares and wishes to know from within ... To life she refuses nothing. Her language does not contain, it carries; it does not hold back, it makes possible ... I am spacious, singing flesh, on which is grafted no one knows which I, more or less human, but alive because of transformation.' — Hélène Cixous
