Fri-Yay: weekly wrap up (tri-weekly edition)

Voyager and nothing else, SORRY I’M NOT SORRY

Articles about Autism Spectrum Disorders and women: Maia Szalavitz’s ‘Autism: It’s Different In Girls‘ from Scientific American and Apoorva Mandavilli’s ‘The Lost Girls‘ from Spectrum; articles about Australian land art and Janet Laurence; the third book in Anne Bishop’s The Others series (in which the Bad Guys have just been found out to be drowning babies, in case their moral position wasn’t already clear).

Installation is one of the most significant extensions of dematerialisation [in the arts]: rather than offering an optical object to contemplate, it provides an immersive experience that necessarily entails [what Walter Benjamin referred to as] ‘tactile appropriation’.

–Susan Best, ‘Immersion and Distraction: The Environmental Art of Janet Laurence’ in Art & Australia, vol. 38, no. 1, 2000, p. 86

Space Witches, elaborate work emails and bitter tweets.

It was too dark to see the captain’s face, but there was no doubt that it was Artema who rushed from witch to witch, moving like a shadow. As Cassa watched, a glow began to form above the agorai kiros–the dimmest hint of witchlight. At the same time, she felt a flicker of power reaching out to her. Anno’s mind inviting her to join the thread. She found the edges of the light spell, but it seemed sluggish, smudged, and there didn’t seem to be any way for her to latch onto it.


She’d been so intent on finding the spell threads that she hadn’t noticed Captain Mol approaching. Cassa tried to blink away the darkness, focus on the captain’s face. Artema’s eyes were fierce, ready for a fight. She was the only person Cassa had seen who hadn’t looked ready to drop.

“I’m holding the threads with Anno but I’m no transmuter, Cassa. My spells are smothering the witchlight, but Anno can’t hold it on his own. I need your power in the cast.”

“By yours hands, Captain. But I can’t focus on the threads, can’t hold them.”

The captain grimaced.

“That’s because of me. I’ll need to withdraw slowly, but if I just drop out the entire spell will break.”

Cassa had done spell handovers countless times. But she’d never had to hold threads that had been cast by anyone outside of the Order of Persa. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she could find half of them. Still, she bobbed her head.

“I’ll be ready to pick up the cast as soon as I can link into it.”

Printed deluxe colour copies of my next zine (and then didn’t have money for the plain old b&w printing); got sucked in to online craft tutorials about watercolour pencils, hand-drawn lettering and drawing roses; bought a new flavour of T2 tea; attended the Feminist Writers Festival networking day with a bunch of other amazing babes; fought off my first Twitter Misogynist.


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