A Wallflower in the Amazon, Paula Tatarunis
A Wallflower In The Amazon Paula Tatarunis 1952-2015 What struck me first was thickness. I deplaned into the aromatic raptures of volume, onto a third axis of gravity, density, proliferation. Mere perimeter, somersaulting around the x, pirouetting on the y, englobed -- it was not just the vertigo of a rough descent, persisting across the length of the humid aeroporto, or for the duration of the trip from Manaus to Manacapuru, and it was more than the times your cross-eyed stare pulled me into mezzo-relievo from the wall. It was a profusion of π beyond my wildest dreams. Oh, I recognized voracities, invaginations, efflorescences, even lianas, beaks, and pharynxes. But everything was star crossed, oestral and vaguely encrypted, and I had no words for the particular way the hot brown water purled between roots and banks, nor for the tattered, green fornix quivering overhead. Even the shadows we...
