Michelle

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A Man Without a C...
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The Salt Eaters
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Shakespeare and C...
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Tilly Lawless
“You may think these streets are yours to walk, but they belonged to someone else before: the queers, the hobos, the junkies, the trannies, the prozzies - those streets were theirs before they were yours so be careful, you may find you have to wipe your shoes clean before going into your nice apartment.”
Tilly Lawless, Nothing but My Body

Virginia Woolf
“No, she thought, one could say nothing to nobody. The urgency of the moment always missed its mark. Words fluttered sideways and struck the object inches too low.”
Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

Sarah Schulman
“There is something inherently stupid about gentrified thinking. It’s a dumbing down and smoothing over of what people are actually like. It’s a social position rooted in received wisdom, with aesthetics blindly selected from the presorted offerings of marketing and without information or awareness about the structures that create its own delusional sense of infallibility. Gentrified thinking is like the bourgeois version of Christian fundamentalism, a huge, unconscious conspiracy of homogenous patterns with no awareness about its own freakishness. The gentrification mentality is rooted in the belief that obedience to consumer identity over recognition of lived experience is actually normal, neutral, and value free.”
Sarah Schulman, The Gentrification of the Mind: Witness to a Lost Imagination

Sarah Kendzior
“Gentrifiers focus on aesthetics, not people. Because people, to them, are aesthetics.”
Sarah Kendzior, The View From Flyover Country: Essays by Sarah Kendzior

Virginia Woolf
“There must be another life, she thought, sinking back into her chair, exasperated. Not in dreams; but here and now, in this room, with living people. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice with her hair blown back; she was about to grasp something that just evaded her. There must be another life, here and now, she repeated. This is too short, too broken. We know nothing, even about ourselves.”
Virginia Woolf, The Years

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