Diana:
To the left of where I'm typing, it says you're attending an event called "Chopped, Except That It's Art Chopped!" tonight. That's a fun name for an event! Are you really going? Do you think it'll be like that series "Will it Blend?" I remember learning about Will it Blend when their 1st gen iPad video went viral. That must have been some years back; Google tells me they're up to the iPhone 6 now!
In any case, I guess I'll keep talking to myself here since we can't dialogue on Gchat. Maybe I'll find a funny picture to post at the end of it. You look sad in your profile picture. Is the stapler making you sad? The polka dotted animal atop it? The Anthropologie p 12 sweater (can't be, I know you love that sweatshirt, it looks great!)? Is it me? Is it the fact that we haven't communicated since 12:41AM when you were going to make popcorn but didn't and I actually did? It was kettlecorn, but much too salty.
ok, well —
Hello Monica,
I hope you're having a stupendous time in Duck Beach, NC, home of the amazing annual Mormon Spring Break that is so beautifully documented in [Duck Beach to Eternity - Movie]. I wanted to say that after scrolling through my Instagram extensively this morning, I don't think you've posted enough photos of your vacation.
It's 12:52 as I type this and I think you should be well on your way to being day drunk. I also wanted to use this time to (in)formally thank you and Ben for the hotdog keychain you so generously gifted me on my birthday. I appreciate it so much, hotdogs being my favorite food and all, and have attached a photo of you and Ben dancing on the beach to express my gratitude.
At the moment, I'm using another keychain for my house keys. I can't find a picture of it online, but I bought it at a novelty store in Venice last year and it's of a small joint that has red glitter where the ember should be. Of course, I'll use the hotdog keychain as soon as I get to Berlin with new keys to use. Once we're there together, drinking 2€ champagne in the park and playing cards, I'll show you the hotdog keychain used to its full potential.
Until then ~
Hello Lanny!
It's Tuesday at 1:20 PM which means that last Thursday evening (can it be?) was that last time I saw you. If this is true, it must also stand to reason that I have not yet properly thanked you for the beautiful obsidian pyramid and postcard you gave me for my birthday.
I must admit, I was a bit confused when I first opened the delicate Portal to Truth (not sure I'm tagging the right one) sachet in which it lived. Granted, at that point, too much sangria, too many doobs and too many whippits had been consumed, and I will say now without shame that I thought the obsidian was a paperweight! I suppose it still can be, just one with revealing, transformative and cleansing powers. How lucky I am to have such an intuitive friend as you.
As I've decided to devote this Tuesday early afternoon to catching up with my correspondence, I have to ask: How was Janet's birthday? I hope it was a lot of fun and that you guys ate something spectacular. Was it Bar Pitti? That's where I ate on my birthday eve before Mistress B (for Balloon) made those unspeakable inflatable wearables. You were probably wearing an amazing suit that you forgot to post about on Instagram. Here is permission to post retroactively.
I hope to see you at least 15 times before I leave to Berlin, and that once I'm there we can continue our antics over FaceTime. I also wish you revealing, transformative and cleansing powers. I will probably have too many, once this rock/crystal/volcanic glass is "charged" (is that how these work?), so I'm totally down to share.
Am attaching my favorite image result for "film subtitle obsidian" on Google. So much love to you.
Dearest Shiv,
Today marks the 25th day of your Berlin chilling, as well as the 27th day since we last hugged. As I came to this page to ask about, or more accurately, to stalk your social media presence since you left, I was pleasantly surprised to see that most incredible photo of us used as your profile picture. My favorite part, other than the memories it brings, is the fact that we are accompanied by two dogs: one hot, the other Klaus.
I know we've recently been talking about eating ramen, organizing readings and other "business"(ha!)-related logistics, but I haven't quite gotten around to finding out which clubs you have been frequenting, which parks you have been drinking in or how many one-piece suits you've acquired since your dollar-to-euro exchange.
Things on this side of the ocean are fine. Yesterday, Diana and I ate sushi. You would be surprised to know that she has pushed through her initial 1.5 hit limit and now rarely refuses a doob when it's offered.
I have spent the day so far meeting with subletters, so as to make my transition into your arms more seamless and worry-free, about a week and a half from now. As I'm typing this, at 12:39, I find myself quite stressed about a performance I'm to give tonight using a 4-in-1 printer/scanner/copier/fax-er. Could you fax me some leather swatches from the Kit Kat Klub? It's a pride exhibition, after all —
Hello Brandon,
I've been seeing around Facebook that you are trying to convince, compel and invite people to come visit you "in Oakland." On a personal level, I am a bit saddened by the fact that you would not invite people to Treasure Island directly, instead repeatedly insisting on "tha" hipper and more happening "town" (a term Urban Dictionary suggested to describe the city east of SF Bay).
As it is your birthday tomorrow, I will not give you too hard of a time, but I did want to share a couple of reasons for why I think it's really cool you live in Treasure Island, or "TI," as I will affectionately call it from this point forward.
First, it is an artificial island built specifically to host 1939's Golden Gate International Exposition. Who else can call their backyard a California Historical Landmark? Second, Treasure Island served as a set for The Matrix, RENT the movie and broadway musical, Pursuit of Happyness, Charlie Chan at Treasure Island, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Flubber,What Dreams May Come, The Parent Trap and Patch Adams, though ironically not once in the 16 films adaptations of Robert Louis Stevenson's canonical novel of the same name (the edition I had as a child pictured here).
From this brief research, I have gathered that the late Robin Williams was a fan of spending time in TI. I hope that when I visit the west coast you will reconsider inviting me to karaoke in Oakland, and instead sing with me among the TI film sets, historical landmarks, wheat fields and leftover detritus from the 2007 Cosco Busan oil spill.
Wishing you a hyphy birthday eve and hoping you go dumb at at least one sideshow ~
Dear Jameson~
We are at the Ace Hotel and I am "in residency" and you are somewhere between floors 1-12 having a pride quickie.
Our time at the Cubbyhole (pictured below and in profile pic) feels like forever ago, and I feel like I have lived three different lives since then. In one, I was caught in traffic for 80 years, in another I encountered a rainbow Darth Vader and in the third, I vaped with you while writing a chapbook called "Other Titles by Sophia Le Fraga."
Some examples of these titles were:
-Gravity Bong's Rainbow
-To Chill a Mockingbird
-Venus Xtravaganza in Furs
In other news, all of the rainbows on Facebook are making me feel like I'm tripping acid.
I would go into how much I'm going to miss you when I'm in Berlin and whatnot but given my current lack-of-subletter situation, I'll probably be back faster than you can say "let's make sure to cut out of the city next year during Pride."
Which means that we can continue to chill every day without having to sense8 each other from across the Atlantic. Phew.
You're back and it's time for a cigarette—
My dearest Diana,
I suppose it's only been 5 full days since I last saw you, but I'm currently holding back tears (Friday, 11:54AM) unable to shake the feeling that it has been approximately 20 years since we held each other on that dark and red-lit corner in Kreuzkölln shouting "I love you" across streets.
As I type, the sun is shining through the windows of this strange 17th century apartment Rin and I are sharing in Mitte, and I am missing you but unable to text you as it is only, who knows, maybe 5 in the morning there. Granted, when I woke up at 9:45, there were 28 texts on my phone from the chain I share with you and Shiv, so I guess I could, but it's also been a while since I worked my Facebook correspondence muscles, and I've been biking and all, trying to keep "in shape."
A secondary fact I'd like to share is that I've listened to (not watched the video of) Rihanna's hit single, casually abbreviated "BBHMM," 14 times between last night and this morning.
Ok. Today is the first day of your open studios, perfectly aligned with the first day of the rest of your life. This is a big deal! One that I feel extremely sad to miss, especially having seen the images of your studies through my Apple devices. Completed works as "works in progress" — well done, Hamilton, well done.
Klaus is at my feet and for a moment expressed jealousy regarding our #BHQFUOS collaboration, a piece I personally think is robust as hell, the world being ignorant about our sizes and whatnot. I assured him, as I know you would have liked, that he is actually front and center (or, left and bottom) and that his portrait has been rendered in nail polish and clipboard material, and will also be displayed to the public. He was so pleased.
I, on the other hand, am about to head to the lake! When I said it was 95º here yesterday, no one understood what I meant! I nevertheless refuse to speak in centigrades & think you might be pleased to know that none of the art I have seen since you left has left me as joyous or perplexed as Bling Blong, an immersive experience I feel honored to have shared with you.
Merde !
xo — feeling unable to determine whether I'm little or big.
Dear Alejandro,
There are so many to-do's that I have to check off my list before bed but I can't imagine doing anything other than writing you right now. It's midnight Monday night (Tuesday), which means, if memory serves, that you'll be back in exactly a week. Thank god. Greenpoint has been so lonely without you.
An interesting thing happened while I've been typing this message which is that you just texted me a picture of a "dank ass" frog. DAMN. The frog looks like a hairy ass nug. It kind of grosses me out or I'd post it here for everyone else to see. [Update: I now see it's been posted on Shiv's timeline, for reference]
I suppose it's time to ask: How was Amsterdam? Berlin? How is Australia? Where did you go in between? What was your favorite meal? Was the Dampkring your favorite coffee shop? Was it because of the cat?
A very painful and disgusting thing is that I've had a zit on the inside of my ear for the past four or so days. As I type to you now, it distracts me.
Also lol did you see that literary activism thing I posted on twitter last week? I was thinking of you while making my last video play thing, a translation of Tardieu's "The Underground Lovers" and couldn't help myself... It's weird as hell and I'd love to hear what you think.
Tell me that when you come back you're here to stay for a minute? There is dankness to be had in many capacities (smoked, eaten...) [—which reminds me! Have you tried Little Dokebi? I'm obsessed].
Korean Fried Chicken & saudade de você ~
Dear Ben,
It occurs to me that throughout my summer of correspondence, I had not written you a letter. And as I scroll through my internet today, I figure why not now, why not this autumnal Tuesday at 3:33. After all, wasn't it you who told me that Tuesday early afternoon is the best time to accrue Likes on a Facebook post? Is that what media people call "reach"? Anyway —
I'm very happy to hear that you and Victoria will be playing tennis this weekend. You'll have to tell me where and when, as I would love to attend this historic match. My father pointed out on the phone yesterday that Manhattan was probably very expensive, so I figure you guys will probably hit up some park in Brooklyn. Might this be the time to try out McCarren's courts? Klaus could be very good at picking up the balls. I think there's a name for that job? The suspense is killing me.
On my end, just trying to figure out what to wear tonight and preparing for the sprint that will occur between the hours of 5 and 11 PM. From my house to the Bedford stop to BHQFU back to the Graham stop for the reading and then a nice 10 minute walk home.
It was fun going to the Cubbyhole the other night while it was empty. Kind of spooky, almost, what with all of the ceiling decorations and none of the people. I'm forcing my mind to draw a connection to Twin Peaks, given National Coffee Day (or whatever) and that Log Lady passed away. The pieces are there, anyway, I think.
Dearest Rin (aka Kristina aka Rin-bird),
We are arguing over email and it almost feels like you're right here in Brooklyn, on the other end of the B43. But you're not. And while you read this (hopefully smoking weed in Swaziland), imagine me sighing.
[Remember in Germany when you and Eric would know whether or not I was in a crowded room just by waiting for my sigh?]
There are many things I have to tell you and many things I struggle to because it's been eleven days since I've heard your voice, another eleven or so until I hear it again. Sadness.
Diana and Jameson and I went out to the opening of Carol last week and now it feels like I can hardly walk down the street without falling in love. This weekend, I read two books I will pass on to you when you return. What did I send you off to South Africa with? I remember you on my pink chair ;) writing down the title of something or other...
My forgetfulness reminds me that our Lumosity Family Plan is about to end next week! I have to say, I've made great use of it over the past year. I improved my overall rank to the 95th percentile, and I'm only struggling in one area... memory, duh. Did I tell you how I tweeted at them a couple of weeks ago saying they should target their advertising at millenial potheads then gained a bunch of followers?
I know you have your phone down in South Africa and I hope you have been practicing Lumosity too! I think the new game with the animals swimming down the stream is very cute. It's easier than the penguins, thankfully.
I am thinking of Mies and Sadie and Kamille and the KJs and 50 Palm, imagining what will be served on Thursday (their first Thanksgiving without you?!) and who will attend. I remember one year we did practically all of Thanksgiving dinner on video chat. You with all your cousins eating crack chips in the TV room and me in my tie with Matt. I'm thankful we had that and I'm thankful for you. You know I've still never sat at the fancy dinner table in your fancy dinner room. Even the time we tasted caviar and champagne with your dad, we were in the breakfast nook.
I do want to hear about the work you've been making and the work you've been helping to make and how you've learned to dance like liquid. I would like to dance this way. Maybe you can teach me?
Here are some pictures of us being us. I want to post the one where we're Christmas shopping in our matching Barbours but I'll have to look for that later.
Will you remember to bring me back some Lactaid from Europe?
I love you so —
Sophia Le Fraga is a poet and visual artist. She is the author of literallydead (Spork 2015); I RL, YOU RL (minuteBOOKS 2013, Troll Thread 2014) and I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE INTERNET (KTBAFC 2012). Her anti-play trilogy of iOS adaptations comprises W8ING 4, TH3 B4LD 50PR4N0 and UND3RGR0UND L0V3R5 (Gauss PDF 2014, 2015). "Other Titles" (Büro Broken Dimanche; Berlin, Germany) was her first solo show. She's recently been included in "Greater New York" (MoMA PS1; New York), "PERFORMA" (New York), "Eugen Gomringer &" (Bielefelder Kunstverein; Bielefeld, Germany), "Itself Not So" (Lisa Cooley; New York) and "read the room / you’ve got to" (SALTS; Basel, Switzerland). Le Fraga is the poetry editor of Imperial Matters, a curator for the experimental reading series Segue and a member of Collective Task. She teaches poetry at BHQFU, New York's freest art school.