Clark-Novella
I’m the luckiest girl in the world! Last night, just as I was wrapping up a positively harrowing work week, LCF surprised me at my office with this little baby right here. I’ve named her Clark-Novella, since she’s a slightly more ladylike version of Burroughs’ bug-powder-fueled beauty in Naked Lunch. I especially like her powder blue chassis - oh-so-reminiscent of the tuxedo William Katt wore when he took Sissy Spacek to the prom in Carrie. It also bears a striking resemblance to the model my mom would click away on deep into the night when I was little girl and she was just embarking on her own insane journalism career. I remember fucking around with it when she wasn’t looking and feeling very important, like my misspelled words had more weight and permanance when banged out in inky black. Now of course, anything I write on it will feel frighteningly fragile, without a disk or a drive or a space out in internet land to hold it for safe keeping. But these days that also feels kind of comforting. I’m reminded of those famous descriptions of Michaelangelo, searching the Italian countryside for only the pieces of marble that had beautiful sculptures locked inside of them. I wonder what novella has locked inside of her? Maybe It’ll be dirty.