media

wandering the corridors of Goldsmiths looking for the erotic, I find protuberances and holes (so fucking literal), others find explosions, fruit, chocolate... we are guided by our eyes, notes Clare. do smells, sounds, textures, temperatures, tastes have gender? you bet they do, but the privileging of sight uber alles is embedded in patriarchal structures of thinking. the omnipotent gaze. seeing is believing... still. something beyond the senses can and does take place. an encounter: a man checks me out. i am a woman, being checked out. although mostly i am a new pair of silver boots. electricity. an exchange of affect, desire, loss, history... pheromones? all in the space of no time at all and in one direction. i don't check him out back, i just let myself receive the information. i play it this way. gendered femme female. pigtails and silly voice. we are all women in the course (surprise surprise) and mostly women in college. we discuss this, history, names, the marking up of territory, a space populated by (mostly) female bodies designated with (mostly) male names. a bit like science (males naming everything). question for later: what is 'media'? is the body 'media'? is the space between us 'media'? im-media-te, media-te. media as what happens between object-subject, subject made object and subject-subject. media as interpretation. media as (female) half (you put the rest in).