Imogen Bunting was a very close friend and her death is an injustice I cannot reconcile (there is no god, no reason, no meaning, nothing fair – etc etc). An astonishing (and yet no surprise) number of people came to the commemoration, and folks from Goldsmiths, from peace boats (Hannah), from the TUC, from the New School spoke eloquently and beautifully. Many many tears were shed.
I am keen to see something of this energy tapped (Duchamp wanted to measure the untapped energy of falling tears – IB would have laughed right here) and I want to see that depth of feeling translated into an ongoing activism that befits the revolutionary politics that Imogen herself espoused. However smilingly she did so, she was totally consistent. I will post soon more of her writing, and I hope there will be further publications from others, but in the meantime you can check a piece that was published in the journal Left Curve a few years ago.
The picture is of the quilt made of Imogen’s garments – I would be embarrassed to call this trinketization, but the way it captures a deeper sentiment and echoes with the book we were doing (that will be done) itself catches me in the throat.
(added later – there will also be a memorial in NYC, see here)