Robin Dluzen, editor in chief of Chicago Art Magazine is having nightmares about:
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Not since my adolescent discovery of William S. Burroughs’s Naked Lunch have I felt the same heavy, sinking feeling in my stomach from a work of art, visual, written, or otherwise. The artist is the author, protagonist, and narrator of this digitally composed, fragmented, stream-of-consciousness piece, fluctuating between seemingly autobiographical reality and fantastical nightmares.
Like Naked Lunch, The White Feathered Octopus is difficult to read in both structure and the nature of its content, and it is capable of giving a reader actual nightmares (as it did for me). But also like Burroughs’s masterpiece, it absolutely must be read for its courageous and frightening sincerity.
Curio Wednesday nights in Chicago are kind of a funny thing. It always ends up being that night that you say, “To go out or not to go out? That is the question.” I found a little nook that seems to entice me out of my house every Wednesday that I’m not working.
