BLAST Magazine 2015 by Ossian Veronese

NR 1 2015

// BLAST 100 YEAR CELEBRATION //

BLA ST NR1 Låt oss tillfredställa dina sinnen,

påverka dina åsikter, låt oss berätta

för dig vad som är rätt och fel. Vi är

trendsättare, dem som berättar för dig hur samhället borde se ut. Ett sjätte sinne, en ny färg, ett nytt sätt att

påverkas. I will blast your mind. Vi är ditt nya samvete.

Photo: Helena Hajdu-Rafis

B L A S T M A G A Z I N E / / G R A N TA / / 3

MANIFESTO

Blast magazine. Stora som små, världsomspännande eller vardagliga, det finns alltid fighter att ta. Det här är mina blasts och blesses, vad är dina? Likt pinocchios benjamin kan BLAST vara ditt samvete, låt oss tillfredställa dina sinnen, påverka dina åsikter, låt oss berätta för dig vad som är rätt och fel. Vi är trendsättare, de som berättar för dig hur samhället borde se ut. Ett sjätte sinne, en ny färg, ett nytt sätt att påverka. I will blast your mind. Vi är ditt nya samvete. Håll med eller säg emot, slå upp sida 26 och berätta vad du tar fighten för.

CONTENT

3-4 This spread.

5-6 Frankeinsteins mother.

7-8 The afterlife.

9-20 Blesses.

21-25 Blasts.

26-27 Your blasts & blesses.

FRANKEN MOTHER DARCEY STEINKE

I flew to Paris a few months after my mother’s death to teach at the American University. While I’d looked forward to the trip, once I arrived I was disoriented. The airline lost my luggage.

I had to teach my first class in the

buy flowers in honour of my mother

form was destroyed, who knew what

clothes I’d just flown over in and

and set them on a random grave. I

travelling a soul might do? Maybe all

I didn’t have the books I needed

bought white roses, walked stone to

spirits flew to Paris, not only French

for my lesson plans. Each morning

stone reading the inscriptions. None

ones.

on my walk down the Boulevard

seemed right. My gesture was more

Edgar-Quinet to the metro station I

about my own need for my mother to

passed shops selling tombstones and

be a more sophisticated person than

memorial plaques, stalls that sold

a tribute to the person she’d been.

flowers both real and plastic.

Also, I was still confused about the

After my class was over, I walked past Baudelaire’s moss-covered stone likeness and Sartre and de Beauvoir’s tombstone, which was dotted with red lipstick kisses from adoring admirers. I was still in the early, irrational phases of grief; I had the urge to

whereabouts of her soul. The question, simple, childish, but real – Where is she now? – was one I struggled with. There was something about the chalky belle époque buildings that made me feel they were constructed not of stone, but spirit. Once your material

I was comforted by the thought that my mother’s essence might have been joined in some fundamental way to beautiful Paris. I also had a darker sensation. Whenever my mind was at rest, in the cracks between thoughts, I saw my mother lying dead on her living room floor. The police had found her after a neighbour noticed her newspapers piling up. I’d lived with this image for months but it was in Paris.

B L A S T M A G A Z I N E / / G R A N TA / / 5

NSTEIN’S “The question, childish, but real: Where is she now?”

I was still in the early, irrational phases of grief; I had the urge to buy flowers in honour of my mother and set them on a random grave. I bought white roses, walked stone to stone reading the inscriptions. None seemed right. My gesture was more about my own need for my mother to be a more sophisticated person than a tribute to the person she’d been. Also, I was still confused about the whereabouts of her soul. The question, simple, childish, but real – Where is she now? – was one I struggled with.

Wanna read the full story? granta.com/new-writing/frankensteins-mother

I was still in the early, irrational phases

need for my mother to be a more

of grief; I had the urge to buy flowers

sophisticated person than a tribute

in honour of my mother and set them

to the person she’d been. Also, I was

on a random grave. I bought white

still confused about the whereabouts

roses, walked stone to stone reading

of her soul. The question, simple,

the inscriptions. None seemed right.

childish, but real – Where is she now?

My gesture was more about my own

– was one I struggled with.

THE AFTERLIFE LOUISE ERDRICH Wanna read the full story? granta.com/new-writing/first-sentence-louise-erdrich

We have asked authors to revisit the opening sentences of their stories or poems. Here, Louise Erdrich writes about the beginning lines of ‘Domain’.

alternate first line of this story came

I leave out suburbs: the uniformly

to me: There are no suburbs in the

tan townhouses, the cul-de-sacs,

afterlife.

the names that sadly commemorate

As I was again lost in the vast sprawl

the farmed land, pasture, or wild

of exurban Minneapolis (our waste

world that preceded development.

Seven corporations control the

of land here is prodigal) where my

Cedarwood, Coldstream Manors,

afterlife now, and many people spend

daughter’s volleyball team would play

Shady Oak Court. That we call

their lives amassing the money to

again what always seemed the same

these places developments of

upload into the best. Others, like me,

team of perky, pony-tailed, Catholic

neighbourhoods says everything.

assume they will need a scholarship

schoolgirl opponents, an alternate first

and pile up experiences. I piled up one

line of this story came to me: There

too many. As I was again lost in the

are no suburbs in the afterlife.

vast sprawl of exurban Minneapolis (our waste of land here is prodigal) where my daughter’s volleyball team would play again what always seemed the same team of perky, pony-tailed, Catholic schoolgirl opponents, an

We live in these places out of necessity, lucky to have them out of the terrible explosion of humanity.

The afterlife that I’ve created in this

But we visit and remember lakes,

Granta story is fully and humanly

forests, architecture, cities of wonder,

imagined, over and over. Layer

unruly temples, oceans and ecstasy of

by layer it is created out of our

nature.

attachment to place, to the earth, all of the beings on the earth. Why

B L A S T M A G A Z I N E / / G R A N TA / / 7

BLESS

BLAST MAGAZINE //BLESS// 9

Gรถteborg Venice Barelona Lido Nybro Trolltunga London Los Angeles Stockholm Noret Alafors New York

BLESS

BLAST MAGAZINE //BLESS// 11

BLAST MAGAZINE //BLESS// 13

S F

BLAST MAGAZINE //BLESS// 15v

BLESS STRESS

BLAST MAGAZINE //BLESS// 17

BLAST MAGAZINE //BLESS// 19

/ chip

BLAST I want to blast selfishnes, racism, inequality, sverigedemokrater, egoism, pesimism, spam, piratebay ads, Being alone, waiting for the bus, answer boring texts, cars, american apperal, trash, metal, botteled water, hats, being told to calm down, eating unknown medicins, being sick, being sick because of unknown medicins, leverpastej, blodpudding, cancer, the flu, boring books, generalizations, ques, co.uk, drugs, scary drugs, forget to attach, three, the spinning pizza,

snĂ¤ll, bad news, boring social media days, running marathons, boring dreams, bad influence. That friend showing you her old family photo albums, accidently liked old picture on someones instagram, when your boat is lost, when you canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t find your keys, when have to listen to Alicia Keys, being locked out, being locked in, to be the first person found during hide and seek. To be forgotten during hide and seek, cheating, being hungry.

BLAST MAGAZINE //BLAST// 21

UGLY

S E L F I E S

BLAST MAGAZINE //BLAST// 23

SCARY ANIMALS

BLAST

Delayed buses or planes, terrorism, global warming, global issues, ebola, email conversations, nuclear weapons, armed conflicts, disussing economy, oversleeping, februari-april, be “mulad, space traveling with out me, top knots, hyphenates, grandparents on snapchat.

BLESS

BLAST

BLAST MAGAZINE //BLAST// 29

More reading www.ossianveronese.se www.be.net/ossianveronese www.granta.com

BLAST 100 YEAR CELEBRATION | 2015 // WWW.BLASTMAGAZINE.CO.UK WWW.OSSIANVERONESE.SE WWW.BEH.NET/OSSIANVERONESE WWW.ISSUU.COM/OSSIANVERONESE