Come hear me read poetry!
meditations on things that come back + upcoming events
Hello friends! I’m on my way to France for some reading events this week (Paris, April 23; Lille, April 25), after which I’ll meander to New York for some more on May 2 & 3! Today’s newsletter is a hodgepodge, much like my mind: sharing a mini-essay, plus lots of upcoming events, and links to buy my books (!!!).
mini-essay: what returns
There’s a picture of me, from when I was three years old, getting ready to go to preschool. My nose and philtrum are very red and chapped from a runny nose. I am wearing a black leotard, tights, and sneakers, and also a bright red skirt and sparkly red fairy wings. It’s Purim, and I’m dressed for the occasion, wearing a costume I picked myself. If I remember correctly, I went home early that day because I was too sneezy to stay, but I had insisted on going to preschool that day to show off my costume—one I’d picked myself at the toy store, because it was red, and red was my favorite color.
That didn’t last long, though. In the years that followed, I’d equivocate about my favorite color many times. I went through a pink phase, or maybe, being a girl, I was just given a lot of pink things. By the age of seven or eight, I settled on blue, partially because I really did like it, partially because my mom did, and partially because I came to think both red and pink were too girly for me. Whatever the logic or reason, blue remained my favorite color for many years, and made up most of my wardrobe.
In the past few years, I’ve found that changing. After many years of dark or cool colors, I suddenly found myself with a red trench coat, and then a red winter coat, and then a red raincoat—all exactly the same shade of bright red. It wasn’t intentional: I only realized the similarity of the shades after the fact. But I embraced it—I bought chunky red sunglasses to match the red coats on bright cold days, and was lucky to be gifted a bright red tote in the exact same color. I think I’m the only person in Montréal to wear bright red this consistently, even in the dark winter months.
I don’t really believe there is a singular person that you “are”—I think I’m made and remade, constantly; I’ve been surprised into liking things I never thought I’d enjoy, or the reverse. I still wear a lot of blue, for instance; I still like it very much! But I believe that the self is really an agglomeration of tendencies, and I find truth in the ones that return. Exactly like the color red: something that falls away, but then keeps coming back, or something that keeps bothering me, even after I’ve tried to shoo it away.
Some other things that have been like this: translation, “materiality of language,” my undergraduate CS major, the poem “Cartographies of Silence” by Adrienne Rich, Montréal—and, recently, the thing that apparently I’m going to be doing my PhD on. To spare us all, I’m not going to write about it too much here; I’d like to save that process for myself. But I’ll probably be writing a lot about computers and language and how we know what we know. You’ll be hearing about it.
There’s a lot going on right now, some of it wonderful, some of it terrible, some of it bittersweet. I’m trying to find the things that feel true and hold them close. I’ll be staying in Montréal (wonderful) to pursue a PhD (??), I’m watching the state of the US right now (terrible), I’m getting ready to do a true barrage of readings over the next two weeks (magnificent), and I’m trying to finish my Master’s so I can keep doing more of this writing and thinking thing next year (not bittersweet, but definitely ups and downs). I’m excited about the person I’m becoming and the paths I’ve chosen, even as I’ve recently had to give up some truly wonderful opportunities. I’m trying to get better at choosing the things I do. Here are some of the things I’ve chosen.
Upcoming events (!)
France
April 23, 2025, 7:30pm: event with Shira Abramovich, Lénaïg Cariou, Alex Lachkar and Jeanne Bacharach on The Dream of a Common Language in translation, Librairie La Friche, 75011 Paris, France
April 25, 2025, 7pm: Event with Lénaïg Cariou, Shira Abramovich, and Charlotte Blanchard at L’Affranchie bookstore, Lille, France
NYC
May 2, 2025, 7pm: Readings from The Hand of the Hand at Ugly Duckling Presse Spring Group Launch (The Old American Can Factory, Gowanus). I’ll be reading alongside an incredible array of writers and translators! This is a ticketed event since it will probably fill up—get your tickets here :)
May 3, 2025, 8pm: Reading with Shira Abramovich and Aiden Farrell (Molasses Books, Brooklyn)
Buy my books (!!)
The Hand of the Hand by Laura Vazquez for Ugly Duckling Presse, translated by Shira Abramovich and Lénaïg Cariou of Limited Connection Collective
Description: The Hand of the Hand brings us to a future or an alternate universe in which earth, animal, and human intertwine—where stomachs have meadows, milk pours itself over trees, and flies wash the dead. Vazquez pulls deceptively simple, bare language into puzzling formations, creating an ambient unease. By turns lyrical and absurd, The Hand of the Hand explores the mystery and strangeness of what it means to be both speech and body, tongue and dirt.
Le Rêve d’un langage commun by Adrienne Rich (French) from L’Arche Éditeur, translated by Shira Abramovich and Lénaïg Cariou of Limited Connection Collective
Présentation: Ces poèmes d’Adrienne Rich sont un hommage aux femmes, à la prise de conscience et à la lutte pour l’existence – de l’intime politique. Dans Le Rêve d’un langage commun, la chercheuse Marie Curie, l’artiste Paula Becker et l’alpiniste pionnière Elvira Shataeva forment une constellation de guides dans une histoire empêchée, où la poésie devient lieu de mémoire et de transmission. Dans ce recueil phare de la poétesse, exploration intime de sa vie à 45 ans, se mêlent souvenirs amoureux, histoire et lutte sociale : disant pour la première fois ses amours avec une femme, elle marque durablement l’histoire littéraire.
What I’ve been reading
I’ve been very moved by the lovers and language in both Garth Greenwell’s Small Rain and Anton Hur’s Toward Eternity. My goodness, I never used to cry from books, but both of these made me tear up.
I’ve been returning to poems in The Dream of a Common Language, particularly “Cartographies of Silence.” There’s something about this poem that continues to captivate me and echo in my mind—give it a read!
Other thoughts & happenings
I’ve been traveling; my brain is mush. I went to Vienna and am passing through Krakow as we speak!
I’m staying in Montréal for my PhD, working with Jackie Cheung and Elizabeth Patitsas at McGill and Mila—please absolutely come visit! I made this invitation graphic two years ago when Fulbright wouldn’t let me leave and it still stands.
I’m cooking up a very silly project with my dear friend Rachel; details to come soon :)
