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Rose McLaren

Rose McLaren is an artist in London.



Articles Available Online


Talk Into My Bullet Hole

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July 2015

Rose McLaren

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July 2015

‘Someday people are going to read about you in a story or a poem. Will you describe yourself for those people?’ ‘Oh, I don’t...

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May 2014

Art Does Not Know a Beyond: On Karl Ove Knausgaard

Rose McLaren

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May 2014

Karl Ove Knausgaard’s My Struggle has an oddly medieval form: a cycle, composed of six auto-biographical books about the...

#DROWNINGNOTDROWNING   to find me, plausible and aspiring in a relevant dress and full of promise oh internet, oh tumblr, at twenty your sunniest meme is a church i enter, mouth full of feigning: i will be well to find me so, industrious and suffering sweet bean or sesame, darkest soy, an oyster sauce i squeeze from me my pores are little sepulchres: my face is thick with foreign bodies my face is foreign bodies you don’t know except you do i do not know about anything, weary and sleek at three am what is it to be so heavy with lustre that you can’t even? in my vault of suspect valentines, a boy whose kiss is an absolute brat and it wants what it wants he said i had become intense he lead me not into temptation in the night, when the body is its realest zoo, couldn’t we all use a few of those flavourless mercies? and by mercy, a kind of white-people tea you drink it off hot and without sugar me, when the heart turns watertight me, at half the speed of me>> <<to find you, i won’t days of lulling wound, i know, when hands cannot comply youth is being in the world and the serpent under it: better to have not been born is the penitent subtext of all our comic fonts oh internet, oh, blog of blogs atypical silk of self cut, and a softer filter over us a squealing dream at night i’m unzipping a damsel i’m climbing in through her face to say yes and i thought if i could lay my shadow in a stranger’s lap, could stretch myself the length of my light reading, i would be sane i would drain the blank page like solemn milk i fail by theft, by thrift, by pills, by mania’s several devices to find you if anyone could if i could reach back through the rabbit for the hat paranoid, and nobody wants to fuck that thought nobody wants to deal what does it mean to go under? to become: sclerite, the spiny element in me kelps and corals, colonial forms, good sea-stalwarts all down through fleabane, limonium, and sweetest vulgare a red finger gropes for

Contributor

August 2014

Rose McLaren

Contributor

August 2014

Rose McLaren is an artist in London.

The Prosaic Sublime of Béla Tarr

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Issue No. 6

Rose McLaren

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Issue No. 6

I have to recognise it’s cosmical; the shit is cosmical. It’s not just social, it’s not just ontological, it’s really huge. And that’s why we...
Stalker, Writer or Professor? Geoff Dyer's Zona and Genre

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February 2012

Rose McLaren

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February 2012

‘So what kind of a writer am I, reduced to writing a summary of a film?’ wonders Geoff Dyer half way through Zona. Such...

READ NEXT

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January 2011

Futures Past: Monumental Memorials of Modern Berlin

Leila Peacock

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January 2011

Cities display a worship of history in the monuments and memorials that they choose to erect, through which the...

Interview

March 2013

Interview with Amit Chaudhuri

Anita Sethi

Interview

March 2013

Think of the long trip home.  Should we have stayed at home and thought of here?  Where should we...

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Issue No. 15

Editorial

The Editors

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Issue No. 15

In The Art of the Publisher, Roberto Calasso suggests that publishing is something approaching an art form, whereby ‘all...

 

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