EP 75.

By redistributing the myth of Atalanta across time and space, and adapting it to the story of my own experiences growing up in a series of rural settings, I investigate the porous space between fantasy and memory. Atalanta: An Anatomy is a cracked meditation on girlhood itself as a precarious object of male violence. As it leaks questions about the fugitive and the feral, the neglected and the hunted, it telegraphically indexes wildness in the human imagination.

Excerpt:

She senses herself here and hides us both in her story; my girlhood lost in her woods. I hear her voice needling like pine in my head. In thinking about her father, Atalanta hunts for memories of herself. Atalanta is not a fossil; she is a red streak melting luminously into the disorientating brightness of noon. Her speed blurs worlds. There may be two ancient Atalantas but their stories share the same picture; they memorize the same disorderly forest where her reds disarray.