Yes, i agree that website is intense and i feel a little awkward posting the link here because i have no personal experience with the group and so can't vouch for their integrity and quality of work. (I also wonder where they would stand on "The Issue" of female only spaces and organizations.) Plus, the page with all the links to various womyn artists' work is very cool. I confess, though, that i posted those links up here not just because i thought womyn might find them interesting but also as sort of a "tease". What i really want people to care about and get involved in are protecting/growing Social Security and/or other economic issues ( http://www.psmag.com/business-economics ... dea-67226/
) simply because i think addressing and correcting economic inequalities and exploitations are absolutely fundamental to empowering womyn and girls. (For years now i've toyed with the idea of doing a workshop on labor rights and organizing in and out of the workplace, but always ended up convincing myself that people are specifically on vacation at the festival and they would not be interested.)
Now, mostly for the pleasure of it (because i also love and read poetry all the time):
"Preludes" by T.S. Eliot
The winter evening settles down
With smells of steaks in passageways.
The burnt-out ends of smokey days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimney-pots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.
And then the lighting of the lamps.
The morning comes to consciousness
Of faint smells of beer
From the sawdust-trampled street
With all its muddy feet that press
To early coffee-stands.
With the other masquerades
That time resumes,
One thinks of all the hands
That are raising dingy shades
In a thousand furnished rooms.
You tossed a blanket from the bed,
You lay upon your back, and waited;
You dozed, and watched the night revealing
A thousand sorted images
Of which your soul was constituted;
They flickered against the ceiling.
And when all the world came back
And the light crept between the shutters,
And you heard the sparrows in the gutters,
You had vision of the street
As the street hardly understands;
Sitting along the beds edge, where
You curled the papers from your hair,
Or clasped the yellow soles of feet
in the palms of both hands.
Her soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o'clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
A notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient womyn
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
but also for the reading experience (as compared to reading expository prose, which usually does not help to promote one's "empathetic imagination")
-As for the Krugman piece, Artemis, i am curious as to what you think of it. Not to put you off at all from speaking your mind, personally i find the post insipid and disingenuous; this reaction having nothing to do with the book he mentions, which i have not read, and admitting that i'm in a bit of an ornery humanities instructors mood at present. (i also find it interesting, and maybe a bit telling, to compare Krugman's writing style here to Tim Kreider's.) On-the-other-hand, i definitely sympathize with Kreider's observations, many of which are in part why i have no problems with magazines and other publications which use pay-walls on their websites. Quality costs and writers/artists need to be paid for their work.
(Speaking of quality writing (transformed), have you by chance checked-out The Public's musical production of "Fun Home"? I haven't read any reviews and have been wondering if they succeeded in bringing A.B.'s book to life on the stage.)