Something Soft

OCTOBER GUNK

Sitting at the edge of Seward Park, I watch a middle aged man wield a Spider-Man action figure in front of his cell phone. He contorts the limbs and makes it dance. His child, on the other end of the phone call, squeals with laughter.

A thin yellow sunray falls through the green waving leaves, which warms the top of my head and pitches a flickering shadow onto the black cement

I hold a small paper cup of lukewarm tap water from the deli. The water ripples as I lift it to my lips, and each sip soothes a burning in the back of my throat. My relief's audible. Like a long “ah”. Almost to say:

Here is something soft-

Orange flames took over my apartment building just a few hours before. The scent of burning lithium lingers around the neighborhood. The flames were so hot they rejected water. They generated a thick black smoke, which filled the lungs and apartments of over thirty people, killing four of them.

Pigeons amass around a woman who throws bits of stale bagels into the air by the East Broadway train station; People disappear underground as new ones emerge in perfect cyclicity, like death and birth.

Elemental truth: Chaos and Harmony depend on one another.

I have always identified with fire. Born in August, I grew to be spontaneously destructive. I’ve smoldered, too; under a blanket of day jobs and appointments, blurring dreams and an itinerant anger, which sparks every now and again, like those charred e-bike batteries left on Madison Street.

Now, I look at those batteries and I see a squirming impatience.

After the fire I checked into a hotel, where I still live. I put marigolds on the desk, and hung a string across the window to dry them. I never turn the TV off. I sit and soak in the shower. The blinds in my room are red, and when the sun comes in midafternoon, the walls turn pink. From the bathroom window you can see the Empire State Building, and in its shadow, a handful of trees, rustled by wind.

My new neighbor Linda often knocks on my door to hang out. She’s been living in this hotel for the past three years after losing everything in a fire, and spends most days on her bed, drinking, and fighting with her boyfriend. Sometimes we watch the news together, or some soap opera, and sometimes she mutes the TV and starts telling stories from her past to soothe herself. I listen as she says, “Love is the only thing life can’t take away from you. That’s all that matters.”

My boyfriend, Kevin, visits and at night we wash each other’s hair in the shower. I drift peacefully in the flickering blue light, in the crook of his arm, and I think Linda is right about Love.

-Allegra Krieger

Happy October (the best month!). There are sooooooo many shows & special events this month we are excited about, plus we asked a friend to make a special October playlist for us::

as someone whose birthday is in october and whose favorite holiday is halloween, it’s an honor to curate a playlist for this month’s gunk.

in it you’ll find…

some ambient stuff, some dark stuff, my favorite song by the cure, and a whole lot of synths

the first song is by jonny from space, miami based dj and producer who will be making his nowadays debut alongside sister system as part of livwutang’s residency on october 6th.

what follows are some of the hottest ambient albums of the last few months—natural wonder beauty concept, signs and orbs. had to show love for my city by including miami natives such as danny daze, dj python and akin mannequin. in true holiday spirit, things start to get sp00ky with some boot & tax and boy harsher. then there’s model/actriz, who recently blew my mind at knockdown center. i close out with a new track by james k, which imo is a perfect song.

hope this playlist sparks emotion for u and brings a lil movement to ur hips.

much love, karina pino

((listen to kp for GUNK))

<3 editors, ceci and

hannah, by felix walworth, from the porches house show last month^

OCT GUNK illustration by Enne Goldstein, layout by Abigail Paulson