j/j hastain is a poet, priestess, and pundit of the subconscious, surreal and sensationally sensate. Also a bit of a poltergeist of gender transmission and translocation, j/j is pleth *. I call pleth “j forward slash j” since pleth’s name is less nomenclature than address. A pointer toward a place, yet one that is virtual and not entirely dependent upon actual and specific earthly addresses although always informed by the senses.
For j forward slash j the senses are enmeshed in thought forms and abstract as well as palpable and visceral. We all have this propensity but j forward slash j spends more time than average dwelling in that actual slashing circumference — which is a geometric, living and divine instance of perception. Divine as in envisioned and envisioning. Possibly pleth embodies two halves of a shimmering living binary while circumventing their actuality as disparate or separated places of longing or ambivalence.
Always prolific and slanting toward the prophetic, pleth’s work contemplates the playful and plays in that place where the contemplative originates. j/j hastain’s latest book is part of a large envisioning, it is: Non-Novels – The New Elementals Project.
First a link to the new work, which you must read! Check it out people!
I asked j/j for some words to accompany and elucidate the new work. Here, j/j hastain’s own words on Non-Novels – The New Elementals Project. Pleth wrote:
In precursory stance to bringing this book to page, there were two central images which acted as perpetuating haunts. Each of these kept unrolling a dynamic scroll as place in which one’s mission or drive could become unraveled, opened, lubricated as a maw that tells at a tilt.
The first image was the seeker’s hands underwater, being somehow miraculously covered in wax: salty, sticky dispositions.
The second was an illuminated (transubstantiated) stronghold-hand holding the seeker’s head underwater as they writhe. Holding the seeker’s head under is changing the body, making churns and unforeseen crystallizations within the cosmicity of mystical embodiment by which information can be drawn up and through. The body undergoes numerous subject changes. Intuition breathes as muse and master to itself.
For a prophet, absolute zero is at exertion. The prophetic is a protuberant posture: an erection whose contents could be any number of ribbons within a plethora. The prophetic is not bound by era or even religious area. I sense it to be a subliminal commitment as much as a person embodying a certain stance by which message leaks or speaks.
The prophetic is not off limits to anyone who wishes to pledge. Our own most personal restitutions, resurrections and most needed reflections might in fact depend on our reciting ourselves while leaning over the brink of the city wall (very pregnant with message) toward the plush, through which we are reaching (even if that plush is people pointing fists at us shaking them in awe or anger or envy).
The prophetic is what can be done with that by which one is internally compelled: divine gen.
The prophetic is not a branch of realism. It can be a fruition which propagates fruiting hysterias. As foreteller of events, predictor of predilection, reciprocal posturer (in the manner of trading places with divine will), I can say that by necessity there is no realism in this form and this form is as real as it gets for me.
Sound takes responsibility for the narrative shapes herein. As a valid form of nature, sound is telling its own kind of stories. What does sound most long for? Investigative contact and possible composition of another sacred element (as Earth, air, fire and water are)? Sound’s longing brings forth the subliminal fundament. It is the beings who appear within The New Elementals who spin its wheels.
* My note: I am referring to j/j hastain here in this post by pleth’s preferred and entirely individuated and ecstatic pronoun of “pleth”.